


Dance With the Devil

by Red_October



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Darth Vader Redemption, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Game: Halo 5: Guardians, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23114692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_October/pseuds/Red_October
Summary: Vader had it all planned out. Sidious would die. For years he had plotted, conspired, murdered, and forged elaborate lies to get to this point. However, when the Force throws in a new variable, years of planing are called into question. As the galaxy burns around him, Vader is left with one final mission.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Blood in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Well, I have decided that the time has come to bring both of my WIPs overs to AO3. So, we shall see how it goes. However, before we take off, there are a few things to note.
> 
> 1) The Star Wars universe will mostly use the new canon with various bits of AU that will be blended in and explained as they become relevant. Also, I would highly suggest reading the Darth Vader comics (the ones with Dr. Aphra). The first reason is that they are really good, in my opinion. The second is that those will give you some extra context about what's going on. However, it is not necessary to read and enjoy this story.
> 
> 2) This is set post-war in the Halo Universe, but there will be some AU around the events with Cortana going nuts. However, like with the other universe, that bridge will be crossed if and when it becomes relevant.
> 
> 3) Speaking of timing, this is set between Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi.
> 
> I believe that covers anything. As always, I would love to know what you all think, and any suggestions that you have. So, without further ado, I give you Chapter 1...

The white light was blinding. Its introduction was followed by a loud _pop-hiss_ as the pressure cylinder sealed around him. Vader pressed the appropriate buttons and unsealed his helmet. Like the rest of his suit, the mask was tar-black and seemed to suck the very light from the room. Darth Vader took a series of deep, controlled breaths. Around him, the darkness began to set in. Slowly the monster settled into his cage and the Sith produced the object he wished to examine.

_"Rules of engagement, sir?"_ asked a deep, artificial voice.

The conversation cried out from Vader's memory as he examined the flimsy-plast report.

_"Shoot to kill. No survivors,"_ Answered a rage-filled voice.

"No survivors." Darth Vader shook his head at the statement. Never before had he had his entire existence summarized so succinctly. No one of consequence had entered his life and lived to tell the tale. They were dead, either in spirit or in physical form. His mother was dead. The members of the Jedi council were dead. His former master was dead. His Padawan was dead. His wife was dead.

Commander Appo... well he held a strong front, but Vader knew better. He was dead inside- murdered by choices that were not his own to make. Of course, they were not Vader's to make either. Both men had been played by the same puppeteer. Now, with others, they were slowly laying the foundation for his demise.

Darth Vader shook these thoughts clear of his head and focused on the task at hand. Typically, he would be content to receive his paperwork in electronic format. However, he was no fool. The Emperor had both the ISB and Imperial Intelligence watching him. Palpatine was looking for the subtlest hint of the knife hiding behind Vader's back. Yes, the Emperor had given him a long leash, but, like every other leash, his had its limits. For this reason, all conspiracy information was strictly compartmentalized and passed on in the most careful of forms. Few of the people in this plot would ever see the full picture until the operation was nothing but hindsight and regrets.

As he read, Vader watched the chess pieces move in his head. Admiral Piett had just finished moving Vader's last pawn. Death Squadron was Vader's and Vader's alone. Those not expressly loyal to the Sith Lord would have no problems falling in line with their officers. On the other side, Commander Appo and General Veers had just got done identifying the risks in their own units.

He was broken from his thoughts by the chime of his commlink. Vader looked at the code and began pressing the proper buttons to replace his helmet. A curious frown formed on his face as the helmet lowered into place. The Admiral was calling. For him not to appear personally meant that the news was urgent. Vader pressed the activation key.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"We've received a distress call from the supply convoy," Admiral Piett reported crisply.

"The rebels have taken the bait. Move the fleet into position and engage," Vader ordered.

"Yes, my lord," the man answered crisply.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Admiral Piett listened with an attentive ear as his crew worked. Occasionally, he interjected with relevant orders. However, this was a well-oiled crew. Each man knew what he was doing, and what was on the line. Failure didn't mean answering to the Emperor. No. The old fool was nothing more than a figurehead out here. In the fleet, everyone's greatest fear was reporting failure to Darth Vader. He was the machine that determined life and death within their ranks.

"Sir, coordinates are ready. All ships are reporting green," announced the ship's captain.

"Very well. You may proceed," he ordered crisply.

There was a muffled _pop_ as the ships jumped into the blue and black void of hyperspace. Admiral Piett spun around as the door behind him hissed open.

"My lord. We just made the jump. We should be there shortly," he hastily reported.

In his time onboard, Piett had learned what few others had. Vader didn't expect graveling and elaborate displays of respect. He expected relevant information given quickly, and orders followed precisely.

In response, Vader moved his head in something that barely passed as a nod. Piett took it and went about his work. Two minutes later, he gave the order to exit hyperspace, and the Galaxy was never the same again.

**(Home One: ninety seconds earlier)**

"Sir, two of the cargo transports are breaking for open space," announced one of the bridge officers.

"Redirect green squadron. We cannot let them escape," Admiral Akbar ordered as his fish-like eyes examined the battle, "Also divert two Corvettes for intercept."

Behind him, the bridge hissed open. Without looking, the admiral knew exactly who it was. He ignored the woman as he continued to direct the battle. The ship rocked violently as a flash of yellow illuminated the port side viewport.

"Tell the Redemption to pull back. There's nothing-"

"Admiral, twelve imperial warships are exiting hyperspace!" cut in a wide-eyed officer.

"Where?" demanded the Princess standing behind him.

"Everywhere. I'm tracking three cruisers, seven Imperial-class, and one Executor," officer answered quickly.

"Show me!" Akbar demanded, refusing to believe his own ears.

Right on cue, a wall of grey flooded the front viewport. Everyone in the bridge instantly recognized the ship, and instantly every face in the room drained of color. The first to recover was Admiral Akbar. His mind kicked into overdrive as he turned to the holographic battle map behind him. After a couple of seconds, the brunette woman gave him an expectant look.

_There has to be a way out,_ read the expression on Leia's face.

"Sir, the ships are closing at combat speed," reported another crewman.

Admiral Akbar slammed his fist into the table as he searched for a path that didn't exist. It had taken years, but Vader had finally cornered them. To the right was a gas giant that would swallow the fleet whole, and the left, front, and center, all contained hostile warships packed with weapons. Their life was about to get very exciting and very short. Unless...

"Come about to point 2-5-7," the Admiral ordered before opening the ship-to-ship comm channel, "All ships form up on the Home One. Begin docking fighters and prepare for a blind jump-" a violent explosion sent alarms screaming throughout the bridge "-Coordinates will be transmitting shortly."

The response was drowned out by another blast. This one came as a Corvette just port of the ship was torn in two by the Executor's forward guns. Two seconds later came another explosion, and a third, and a fourth one.

"Admiral, the Copperhead has gone dark."

"Same with the Morning Star!"

"And Hope of Alderaan!"

In the span of ninety seconds, twelve Imperial warships had done more damage than what the entire Empire had done in ten years.

"Redemption is reporting critical damage. Her shields are at twenty percent and Captain is requesting to jump now," added in another fourth officer.

As the reports poured in, everyone watched as the first wave of TIE Fighters poured over the ship. Visions of Hoth danced in Admiral Akbar's head as he processed the order. The process of res-assembling the fleet post-battle had nearly cost the alliance their entire naval fleet. This was unacceptable and would not be repeated.

"No. Have them fall in behind the Home One. We retreat as one unit," Akbar declared.

"Sir, the Star Destroyers are slowing into static battle positions," cut in his first officer.

The Admiral cast one last, desperate look out the viewport as he gave his orders. That's when he saw the opening. Vader had made the most minor of mistakes, but that was all the Alliance Admiral needed. A Star Destroyer known as the Defiance had jumped out at an odd angle above her flagship the Executor. While it ensured the hyperspace lane was blocked, it left a gap where neither ships' guns could effectively reach.

"All ships, drop twenty degrees and push ahead at best possible speed," he ordered before turning his attention, "Navigation. Recompute jump coordinates for a blind jump and distribute them to the fleet."

"Yes, sir."

"Captain, what's our shield strength?" the Admiral followed up.

"Seventy percent and holding," answered the crewman.

"Good. Full speed ahead," Admiral Akbar ordered with confidence that he did not feel.

There was a muffled roar as the cruiser's large reactor kicked into overdrive. Voices fell into near silence as the rebel fleet fell into formation. It was viewed on the tactical display as several blue dots gravitating toward their blue arrow. The Admiral's gut churned as blue dot after blue dot winked out. This was promptly followed by a crewman reporting the name of the ship that had just been blown apart.

**(ISD Executor)**

Darth Vader stood at the back of the bridge. He said nothing, and he did little. Unlike his predecessor, Admiral Piett had earned Vader's approval as an Admiral. As the Sith felt in the force, he could tell the man's skills had not slipped. Fear radiated off every Alliance ship in the fleet, as was to be expected in any battle. However, the bone-chilling nature of the aurora told Vader that they had succeeded in surprising the fleet. The fact that these emotions failed to dissipate told Vader that Admiral Piett had the fleet dead to rights and they knew it. Not even their precious X-Wing squadrons could bail them out now.

"Admiral the rebel ships are forming up behind the lead cruiser, and fighters are closing rank," reported an officer from the crew pit.

"Show me," Piett ordered.

The thump of his boots echoed across the cavernous bridge as he marched to the holo table. From his position by the rear blast doors, Vader silently picked apart the board. What he saw looked promising. Admiral Piett cursed under his breath before turning to the crew.

"Tell the Devastator and Avenger to move to point 5-5-6 and focus fire on the rebel flagship. Tell the cruisers to break off an engage the escorts. I want those Hammerheads out of action yesterday!" the Admiral barked before turning to the Executor's captain, "Drop the nose thirty degrees and depress our forward batteries. We need to get back into the action."

A chorus of "Yes sir." rippled through the bridge as his orders were followed. Vader took one intentional step forward to stabilize himself as the deck pitched forward. Beyond that, he did nothing as the Imperial fleet raced to plug the small hole in their lines. Outside, the light show raged on. Green and red lasers streaked across the vacuum of space, with flashes of orange and white highlighting their impacts. Minutes seemed to stretch into eternity as the battle raged on. In the force, Vader felt lives wink out in twos, threes, and more as Alliance ships were ripped to pieces by the Imperial force. Fortunately for Vader, in the end, it wasn't enough.

"Admiral, I'm picking up several hyperdrive signatures from within the rebel fleet," called one of the crewmen from somewhere off to the right.

Admiral Piett's eyes widened as the full gravity of his situation set in. They weren't breaking for a hyperspace lane. The Admiral slammed his hand down on the activation switch for the Imperial command channel.

"Executor to all ships: Concentrate fire on the lead warships," Piett barked.

Under his helmet, Darth Vader arched an eyebrow. The rebel move was unexpected. The goal had been to guide them toward an old smuggler's route about fifteen degrees down from their current position. However, instead, the fleet was making a blind jump. The servos in the Sith's hands whined in protest as his hand balled up into tighter and tighter fists. He forced himself to take a calming breath as the rebel ships vanished from the system.

As the ship's turbolasers fell silent, Admiral Piett's boots, again, echoed off the metal walls as he made his way to Vader. However, unlike before, Vader could hear the hesitation in his steps.

"The fleet escaped my Lord. The fleet is regrouping, and fighters are assessing the damage, now," he reported.

The crispness of his declaration was undercut by the slow nature of delivery. Silence hung as Vader just stood there. The loud _hiss-puff_ of his suit was the only noise heard. Admiral Piett shifted uncomfortably as his superior's black eyes cut into him.

"Alert all commands and launch probes along their last known trajectory. I want that fleet found," Darth Vader bellowed before shifting his attention, "Go dark and take the fleet to the staging area. The time has come."

"Yes, my Lord," the Admiral croaked as a nervous lump formed in his throat.

Piett paled as Vader stopped at the blast doors.

"For your sake, there can be no more mistakes," he declared.

As the doors opened and shut behind Vader, Piett was left with the man's words hanging in the air. He noted, with a frown, that the words spoken did not carry the threatening tone common with the man. Instead, it appeared as though Darth Vader was making a simple observation. Of course, that observation was to be expected when forming up to commit high treason.

**(Home One: Somewhere in hyperspace)**

Admiral Akbar's worry continued to rise as he entered the white-walled conference room. In their haste to jump out of the system, no one had had a chance to re-check coordinates. The computer had generated them, and the navigator had input them without a second thought. Now he had was wishing they had. Panic was no excuse for poor discipline. The admiral was pulled from his thoughts as the door hissed open.

In walked two women. The first was Mon Mothma. She was a tall, human woman with white clothes and a permanently grave face- frozen in position by the horrors she had witnessed in her life. To her left was Princess Leia, with her brown hair done up in a tight braid that ran down across her right shoulder. In her eyes, Admiral Akbar saw nothing but fire. While she had also experienced immense loss, she had not yet grown old enough to be broken by the weight of the galaxy.

A series of wordless nods were traded as the two women found their seats at the table.

"What happened?" Princess Leia immediately asked.

"The attack was a trap and we walked right into it," Admiral Akbar declared, "Given the response time of the fleet, and the appearance of Vader's flagship, it is only logical to assume that the whole thing was set up from the start."

"Which means we were given bad information," Leia reasoned.

"No. We were not. An Alliance operative just reported in. He found the Imperial officer that had leaked the information. The man had been shot twice and buried in a shallow grave," Mothma corrected, "There were clear signs of extended interrogation.'

"Imperial Intelligence got to him," Akbar noted.

"It appears so," Mon Mothma answered solemnly, "There's nothing we can do about it now, and there's nothing else he could have given up. The question is, what do we do now."

"There's not much we can do. The Imperial fleet destroyed most of our smaller ships. Here's the final list-" Akbar gave Leia a datapad containing the lost ships and their class "-As you can see, all of our hammerheads; five corvettes; and two cruisers are gone."

"Two cruisers! That only leaves the Home One plus whatever we can scrape up from the other cells," Leia exclaimed.

"Yes. Our striking capabilities have been severely damaged. Right now, our only offensive arm is the surviving X-Wing and Y-Wing squadrons. With the Ghost out on a mission, the Millennium Falcon is our only multipurpose assault craft," Admiral Akbar confirmed.

Across the room, Leia couldn't help but smirk at the Admiral's technical description of the Falcon. In her opinion, it was higher praise than the ship deserved but fitting none-the-less.

"However, there is a more immediate problem," Akbar picked up as he produced a holo map of the galaxy, "In our haste to escape the system, we made a blind jump. We are here-" he pointed to a spot in the outer rim "-Swipe right on the datapad and you'll see our projected breakout point."

Leia's eyes widened as she took in what she was reading.

"That's... That's not even the same galaxy," she stammered as she passed the pad.

"You are correct. Unfortunately, a manual override would scatter the fleet across the flight path. An error margin of one second could scatter the fleet across twelve different systems. Not to mention there is a risk of doing further damage to the ships and their exact breakout locations would be nearly unpredictable," the admiral continued.

"In other words, we have no choice but to follow this path to its conclusion," summarized a much calmer Mon Mothma.

"Precisely."

"Four weeks is the projected flight time?" Mothma verified.

"Yes."

"I see. If there is nothing else, I'll brief the council. This will delay things greatly, but it will give us time to regroup," she concluded.

"Of course. You'll find all of the relevant information on that datapad," Akbar agreed.

**(Unknown Regions: Twelve hours later)**

the structure was quiet and unassuming from the ground level. A small durasteel door was carved into a cliffside half-buried in moss. However, like Vader, Commander Appo knew better. Years in the military had taught him that no race simply put a door halfway up a mountain without due cause. Given that Vader had ordered the entire fleet into radio silence twelve hours ago, arrived here six hours ago, and was finally going forward; there had to be something big back here. From what little he caught from the crew, Vader had been scanning the area with every instrument in the fleet.

Next to Commander Appo was General Veers. Unlike his clone counterpart, Veers had a better idea of how paranoid Vader was being. During the daily inspections he conducted in the main hanger, Veers had watched heard seven probes launch and watched as five TIE escorted survey ships dove for the surface.

"With all due respect My Lord, what are you looking for?" General Veers asked impatiently.

Vader waved his hand. In response, the door opened with a hiss.

"See for yourself, General," Vader answered as he made his way inside.

General Veers noted that Vader's voice seemed to echo through the space. Even in the pitch black, it was obvious that they were in a large room of some kind. Another wave of his hand activated rows of overhead lights. General Veers blinked away the spots in his eyes and gasped. Suddenly, Vader's paranoia made sense. They were standing on a narrow platform that ran the length of the wall. Spaced at regular intervals were control panels with black screens. The room was bigger than he ever imagined. He guessed it to be at least four hundred meters square with a ceiling of twenty meters and a large hanger door immediately to the right.

"There are two levels, each with its own door," Vader explained as he activated a nearby control panel.

"Where did this all come from," Appo gasped.

"That matters little. Small arms and ordnance are crated up and prepped for transport. Cargo and transport droids are stored along the back wall... The second panel down will activate them," the Sith continued, "I want the contents of both rooms loaded in five hours. Coordinate with the Admiral and use whatever resources are required."

With that, Vader spun around and marched out. In the compound, the two senior officers were left with nothing but their own gaping expressions and a room full of weapons. After a couple seconds of stunned silence, General Veers found his words.

"Commander, tell me what we're looking at," Veers croaked.

"Certainly," Commander Appo began as he marched over to a nearby control panel, "The black ones in front are Commando droids. They were the closest thing to a Special Operations division the CIS had. It looks like this system has the exact specs. So, I'll keep it to highlights. The ones next to them are B2 battle droids. They are the heavy version of the tan ones behind them. There was a grenade launcher variant, but most operated a wrist-mounted twin blaster. The B1's were the backbone of the CIS and operated a standard blaster rifle. They also operated most of the non-automated weapons such as the STAPs in the back and the AAT Tanks in front of them. Next to them are the Drodeka's, aka 'Destroyer Droids'-"

"I'm familiar with them," General Veers answered sourly, "The Alliance has made use of them in past."

"I see..."

The next half-hour was spent with Commander Appo listing off the various units displayed below with their in-war use. As he spoke, General Veers's mind twisted itself in knots. He couldn't possibly comprehend how Darth Vader had managed to come up with this force. Veers knew of the Emperor's complacency when it came to his apprentice, but this was far past complacency. In his book, the fact that Vader could shore up this kind of resource spoke of criminal neglect and an unfit ruler.

Soon Appo turned to the inventory list on the screen closest to him and continued to solidify Veers's opinion. The next hanger over contained the Republic equivalent of this room. There were AT-TEs, AT-RTs, seven heavy cannons, recon equipment, communications gear, Gunships, tank lifters, and all manner of cases containing everything from medical supplies to blaster packs and rockets.

"By the Force, this is insane," he muttered.

**(Earth: UNSC Headquarters)**

Admiral Hood was an old tired man. Thirty years of war had nearly worn him into an early grave. Long frown lines and tired eyes made this fact clear. However, that age did come with its reward. He knew when shit was being fed to him- especially when it came from ONI. Today, it was the fact that he could tell that caused him to arch an eyebrow as he listened to the ONI director, Admiral Osman. Given the size and scope of her proposal, this was either fueled by a personal grudge or ulterior motive, neither of which she was telling him about.

"So, let me get his straight. We've destroyed six Halo rings and haven't been able to find the seventh. For years the entire fleet has been turning this end of the galaxy inside out. The most advanced ships that UNSC and Swords of Sanghelios own have been sweeping the entirety of known space for six years. Nothing. Now, you're presenting me with a heavily blacked-out report that claims to have found the ring... deep in the next galaxy over, no-less." Hood summarized before adding bluntly, "What you are proposing Admiral is, in my opinion, the worst thing that you could recommend or propose."

Osman choked on her brandy, shocked beyond belief that Fleet Admiral Hood would disagree with her well thought out plan. Even if she didn't give him all of the details, there should've been enough in the report for him to sign off.

After she got herself under control, she looked at her superior incredulously.

"Why is my plan the worst thing that I could propose?" Osman asked seriously.

Her frustration came through quite clearly- too clearly for the Fleet Admiral.

"Watch your tone Admiral." Hood barked, stressing her rank when he said it "I may be old, but I know when I'm being told something that is utter shit that belongs in a Brutes' strategic meeting. I also know what you tried to do with Doctor Halsey. So you are walking a thin line with me."

To say that Osman was angry that Hood insulted her plan would be an understatement. Her face glowed red. However, it mattered little. She could be as livid as she wanted, but she couldn't do anything about it without Section 0. Making a move on Admiral Hood would require them to stay silent. Given the debt they owed the man, there was no way that was ever going to happen. Right now, that wasn't her main concern. It was the name, Admiral Hood had tossed in.

"How did you-" Osman started.

"Don't play dumb Director." Hood snapped. "You ordered Lasky, a man who answers directly to me, to carry out the assassination. Did you really think that he would quietly go along without checking if it was cleared with me and the rest of HIGHCOM? Either you are a fool for thinking so or it didn't cross your mind. This proposal is just another thing that I can tack onto your long list of screw-ups. One more mistake out of you and you will find yourself in front of HIGHCOM for treason. Understood Director?"

Osman had paled gradually during Hood's statement by the end, she was sheet white and shaking slightly.

"Yes Fleet Admiral," Osman replied shakily.

"Good. Let's move on," Admiral Hood finished.

Admiral Osman nodded in agreement.

"So your proposal says that we're going to just waltz into this galaxy, destroy the ring and come back like nothing ever happened?" Admiral Hood picked up.

"That's a... a simple way to put it, but yes," she hesitantly agreed.

The Admiral nodded. It was a simple nod with disbelief written all over it.

"So, what's ONI get out of this?" he asked.

The question was simple, and the accusation was clear.

Admiral Osman's face was sheet white, "I don't-"

"Come now. ONI doesn't replace a door hinge without thinking of how it might further its agenda and they sure as hell don't send the bulk of our firepower, along with the bulk of the Arbiter's firepower, to the next galaxy over without a long-term plan." Admiral Hood explained as if he were talking to a child, "What are you not telling me?"

The director considered the question as she threw back the rest of her drink. As it hit her system, the color returned to her face.

"I think the war made you paranoid." she retorted with a humorless chuckle.

"No, it made me a cynic. ONI's actions postwar made me paranoid." Hood started with a suspicious edge, "You asked why this idea is bad, and the answer is simple. We would be committing too many ships for what has largely become a routine operation. Until I get an answer as to why you want that many ships committed, my answer won't change."

"I see. Well, the briefing has everything you need to know for now. I'll explain all the details after I get them together. The president will be contacting you regarding this tomorrow as well sir. In the meantime, what can I do to strengthen the line that I'm on with you?" the director asked crisply.

"One, don't go over my head again. Two, clean up your own mess. Bring ONI, all of it, under the UNSC's jurisdiction again. I'm not going to have a repeat of the four years after the war." Hood ordered her, "I know of your activities with Kilo-5 when you were a captain Director, and I'm not at all pleased that you started a war that we ended up being a part of-" the admiral pointed an accusatory finger at her "-You have a lot to improve on before your status with me changes… Dismissed."

Osman got up, straightened her uniform, and walked out of Admiral Hood's office. Hood sighed as soon as the door closed. He activated his datapad and contacted the head of Section 0.

"Yes Lord Hood?" the Colonel answered.

"Keep an eye on Osman and get me the full details of her plan for Andromeda. She's hiding something and I don't want it coming back to bite us in the ass." Hood ordered.

"Sir you do realize that the orders will be coming in from the president tomorrow, correct?" the man clarified.

"I'm aware, Colonel," Hood said calmly.

The man nodded, "Of course. I'll get them to you ASAP sir… hopefully before your call with the President."

"Until then Colonel. Hood out."

The man saluted Hood, who returned it and ended the connection.

_This will be an interesting couple of days,_ Hood thought.


	2. Unwelcome Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Well, this is chapter 2. I will be adding chapters about once or twice a day, for now, finishing with the chapter that is currently being drafted. While I would love to space it out to once a week, but there is a reason for the short timeline with moving this story over. In about four days, I'll have to temporarily leave for work. I'll be gone for 7-9 weeks and want to make sure everything is squared away before then. 
> 
> All of that aside, comments are always welcome, regardless of what people think. I love to hear from people and find out what they think. So, now that I am done rambling, I give you Chapter 2:

**(UNSC Headquarters: Next day)**

Admiral Osman entered her superior's office with an uncomfortable shuffle. Between the stone-faced marine at her back and the visibly agitated Fleet Admiral in front of her, it was obvious that this meeting was not going to be pleasant.

"Admiral Osman here for you sir," the marine announced crisply.

Admiral Hood neither stood, nor returned Osman's salute. Instead, he locked eyes with the marine.

"Thank you, Sergeant. That will be all," Admiral Hood responded flatly.

In response, the Sergeant snapped a quick salute, spun around, and marched out of the room. The heavy oak door shut behind him with a loud _thud._

"Have a seat," Admiral Hood commanded.

Osman simply nodded as she sat down across the desk from the Admiral.

"What exactly-"

_Thump!_

The previously unseen file slammed down on Admiral Hood's desk with a noise that echoed off all four walls of the room. Next to it, Admiral Hood laid down a much thinner file.

Admiral Hood began while pointing to the thicker file, "This is the unabridged file that your proposal is based on. As you can see, the seal has not been broken. Though, the Colonel tells me it is quite the read full of tactically relevant information and groundbreaking discoveries-"

"Little of which has any-"

"I don't give a damn what you think is _relevant,_ " Admiral Hood snapped, "You have thirty seconds to begin a proper briefing. If you don't, I will approve this mission, and immediately have you arrested for insubordination and withholding information from a superior. As you are removed from the building, I will file the contents of this second file. You'll be court-martialed by the end of the week."

Admiral Osman's face paled before turning bright red with anger. The one time that she wasn't holding a knife behind her back, she had been cornered. The Admiral's previous actions and decisions had forced his hand, and it was something that Osman never wanted to force again.

"Alright, you want a proper briefing," She began with a venom laced calm, "Let's begin…"

What occurred next was the most incredible briefing Admiral Hood had ever heard. For nearly an hour, he listened to Admiral Osman talk, with only the occasional interruption for clarification.

"...As I stressed before, most of this is based on a small amount of data collected in a short amount of time. However, this is all of our Andromeda related intelligence," the ONI Director concluded.

"I see," Admiral Hood answered with a nod, "Normally, I would agree with your assessment of the situation. ONI rarely screws up when gathering and assessing intelligence. However, given that we are oh-for-three on first contact scenarios, this was relevant information. It completely changes the mission and its goals. While I believe you knew this, I no longer have cause to hold you for withholding information. I will take this and your thoughts under advisement."

"Thank you, sir," Admiral Osman acknowledged.

Admiral Hood nodded and continued, "As expected, the orders came down today and I will be acting on your idea. However, what I said yesterday hasn't changed. Get your house in order. ONI doesn't run the show, and the sooner you and your subordinates respect and understand that the sooner my disposition will improve."

"Understood, sir. Is there anything else?" Osman asked expectantly.

"Yes actually, there is. The Arbiter will be informed of your actions resulting in the 'Blooding Years' as they call it. One way or another, he's gonna find out, and I can't afford to have that bridge burned. Second, I need you to pick out an ONI officer to accompany this mission. I trust you'll want a mission report from one of your own."

Osman paled drastically, and her eyes widened noticeably of the implications of the first action. Though the Arbiter is known to be fair to his allies, those who cross him, well… it doesn't end up very well for them. However, at the end of the day, she was an Admiral and would handle this in a manner becoming of her rank.

"Yes, sir. I'll go," she answered without hesitation.

"You?" Admiral Hood asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, Admiral. The Arbiter will be there. As a result, I can come clean to him in a timely manner that will put the matter behind both ONI and the UNSC. Second, we know where we stand with each other. As such, you won't feel like you have to constantly watch your back. Third, if this does go to hell, you'll want an officer with actual military experience. I can provide that," Admiral Osman explained.

Admiral Hood was silent for a minute as he contemplated her answer. This had been the last response he expected.

"First, do you really want to be on the same ship as the Arbiter when you speak to him? Second, I fear your agents about as much as I fear you, which right now is not at all. Third, there will be plenty of qualified officers on the expedition as it is. The last thing we need is another Admiral muddying the chain of command," Admiral Hood objected.

"Yes. It displays, at the very least, an attempt at honor; which is a value that he takes quite seriously. As for your second question, you would also be wise to understand your standing at ONI. As much as you don't like me, I have been running interference between you and the more…" Admiral Osman paused as she considered her choice of words "...shall we say, disgruntled agents within Naval Intelligence."

"I trust that wasn't a threat Admiral," Hood growled as he tapped the court-marshal file.

"No," she answered quickly and firmly, "I'm ambitious, not suicidal. On top of that, I do respect you as a leader. It's the only reason I've let your pet colonel run around unchecked."

Admiral Hood allowed a humorless smirk. It was no secret that he had used the Section 0 colonel to cover his six within ONI. The fact that Admiral Osman was willing to voice her contempt of the man told him all he needed to know about where both men stood with the agency.

After another moment of thought, the Admiral put both files away inside his desk and locked eyes with Admiral Osman.

"No," he answered firmly, "While I appreciate the initiative, I don't need another officer. I need an agent. On top of that, you are the head of ONI— the definition of a 'high-value target'. Bringing you along for a first contact scenario when a regular agent would suffice would be both stupid and reckless. You have twenty-four hours. Get me someone good, not stupid or egotistical."

**(ISD _Executor_ : three weeks later)**

Admiral Piett took a large gulp of caf as he examined the datapad in his other hand. The daily report was just as frustrating as it had been since this whole mission began. The fleet had finished repairs from the battle and was orbiting an unnamed and uncharted planet in the unknown regions. The hushed whispers across the bridge and open conversations in the officers' mess told him the crew was getting as restless as him. A week ago, Vader had briefed the entire crew on what was going to happen with the alliance. While Piett grudgingly agreed with his superior's plan, he did wonder how wise it was to tell the crew. A new round of desertions had promptly followed the declaration, and the fleet's collective nerve had become even more frayed.

"Just another day in paradise," he muttered as he scrolled through the data.

Behind him, the door hissed open. On reflex, Piett spun around and did the closest to a salute his full hands would let him. Vader seemed to ignore it as he came to a stop in front of the officer.

"Admiral Piett, I trust that the droid control modules were installed successfully," Vader began.

As usual, the obvious question held the tone of a declaration.

"Yes, my lord. It took some minor modifications to each ship's systems, but they did integrate successfully. Everything appears to be in working order. However, it will take some time for the crew to acclimate to the new system. They are still picking up the slack of their missing crew members- even if a computer is doing the hard part. The real problem lies in tethering the droids to the fleet. The generation gap is proving to be a problem for our technicians," Admiral Piett answered.

"That was to be expected. I am working on a solution," Vader acknowledged before moving on, "What of the rebel fleet?"

"No luck. We checked along their trajectory and found nothing other than a couple of debris fields. At least one ship came apart in hyperspace," Piett explained.

"Has anything changed with the Imperial fleet?" he followed up.

"Tactically, nothing major. From what I've heard, we are officially missing in action. This is corroborated by the deployment of ships in a search pattern. Beyond that, there is little chatter that we can tell," he explained before adding just loud enough for the crew to hear, "Unfortunately, until we link with the fleet, our intelligence resources are slim."

Vader simply nodded.

"Find them, Admiral. We will not be missing for long," Vader ordered before turning for the door.

"Yes sir," the Admiral called after him.

As soon as the doors hissed shut, he discarded the datapad and marched to the data collection center on the far-right side of the bridge. An idea had just hit him. It was far out there, but not impossible.

"That frigate, where did it crash at?" he asked without introduction.

The Lieutenant in charge quickly turned to the man sitting at the controls.

"Ensign?"

The young crewman's hands were little more than a blur over the control panel as he raced to find the answer.

"Um… here," the Ensign answered as he pointed to the screen, "Just this side of Helska."

Admiral Piett nodded as he considered the information. His hunch might have more weight than he thought.

"Alright. Gather all of the flight data we have and send it to the holo table," he ordered.

"Yes sir," answered both men in unison.

Ninety seconds later, Admiral Piett was at the table staring at a map of the galaxy, with a straight, red line running across the outer rim at an outward angle.

"Captain," he called out.

"Yes sir," the man responded as he hurried over.

"Where do you see them going?" he asked the Captain.

The captain looked at him with a look of confusion.

"Isn't that what we've been trying-"

"Yes, but I'm talking about the red line. If it were to go on, where do you see it going?" Piett pressed as he zoomed the map out further.

The Captain slowly nodded in understanding as he examined the map. He now understood what his superior was saying and wasn't immediately sure how to respond. Finally, he had his answer.

"Here," he answered as he used his finger to circle a small spot on the edge of the next galaxy over, "If they were to keep going, they would have to end up somewhere in this area. It's close enough to not get lost, and far enough away to regroup in peace. Hell, if they wanted, they could end this madness and just disappear from there."

"They could but they won't. That fleet has invested too much and risked too much to let cowardice consume them now," Admiral Piett responded firmly.

Despite his confident answer, Admiral Piett wasn't sure if he was trying to convince the captain or himself.

"Are you suggesting we send a probe?" the Captain quizzed.

"What would be the flight time?" Piett deflected.

"For them or us?"

"Both."

"Four weeks for them, give or take a day. For the probe, it would be a week with the same margin," the Captain estimated.

"Send one… Consider it a stone that has yet to be turned over," the Admiral ordered.

"Yes sir," the Captain responded skeptically.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Darth Vader sat in the pressure chamber and took a breath. It was a deep calming breath, not unlike the kind used in Jedi meditation. There was no difference there. It was what happened in the mind that separated Sith from Jedi.

Slowly the force took Vader out of the physical world and deep into the Darkside. Screams cried out from his memory. Blaster shots echoed in the distance. Explosions rocked his consciousness. As time progressed, images came with the noises.

Vader found himself standing on a planet he knew well. The sand crunched under his boots, while the heat threatened to bake him in his black suit. In front of him was a humble dwelling. The acrid smell of billowing smoke told him there wasn't much left of the half-buried structure. Scorch marks painted the tan structure, while two incinerated bodies told the fate of those who lived here.

" _Was it worth it?"_ Asked a voice dripping with curiosity laced contempt.

Startled, Vader turned to see his old master standing there. Obi-Wan stood tall and proud with his back to the Sith Lord. The man caused Darth Vader to bristle, but he resisted the urge to draw his lightsaber. He had been in these visions enough to know the man was not a threat.

Obi-Wan turned around and locked eyes with Darth Vader. His face was set in grim determination, while flames burned in the man's black eyes. His robes were coated in grey ash, and black where embers had burned through the cloth.

Obi-Wan allowed the thinnest of smiles as he answered Vader's unspoken question, " _Something far worse happened to you."_

Before he could react, the scene changed again. This time he found himself standing in the council chambers of the Jedi Temple. Around him laid the bodies of men and women. Each faces Vader instantly recognized as someone he had killed. Among the faces were the people such as Count Dooku and Nute Gunray. Captain Antilles was sprawled against the back wall with Admiral Ratus thrown against the opposite wall. Mixed with the well-known were the nameless that Vader had killed. Though their names had been lost to history, Vader recognized each one in vivid detail. Coruscant… Vrogas Vas… Scarif… Hoth… Vader remembered the location and manner of death for each person. Their expressions of pain and horror were etched in the stone of his memory.

_"_ This is what separates us," Vader muttered, "I remember the bodies that built our throne."

Blood painted the walls and windows, while the revered chairs of the council were overturned and scattered across the room. However, instead of Obi-Wan next to him, it was his wife, Padme. Compared to Obi-Wan, her eyes were blessedly normal. The sorrow and pain on her face was a sight Vader had long since grown used to in his visions.

" _Did you ever believe your lies?"_ the Padme asked in a depressed voice.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she waited for his response.

"I did," Vader answered matter-of-factly, "I was also a fool."

Padme's sadness was replaced by a knowing smile and the scene changed. Vader found himself on Mustafar. The intense heat washed over him. Ash fell like rain, and Darth Vader felt a chill run up his spine. He noted with some measure of worry, that there were no apparitions.

_"You should not be here,"_ boomed a deep, gravelly voice.

Vader resisted the urge to turn around. The disembodied voice seemed to come from every direction at once, making the source impossible to identify.

"So, it would appear," he answered with authority.

" _Men like you burn in the fire of their destruction,"_ the voice continued, " _Yet you have not."_

"The power of the Darkside-"

_"Matters little!"_ the voice roared, " _I have watched through time and rock and stone. Arrogance is the root of your survival… the belief that you can reverse sins of the past with sins of the present."_

"I care little of redemption," Vader snapped back.

" _And lo the child continues to believe the lies he forges,"_ the voice retorted, " _What is revenge but redemption for one's pride?"_

Vader didn't respond as the darkness pressed into him. Within his suit, the Sith continued to be uneasy. Another chill ran up his spine as something reached out in the force. Acting quickly, Darth Vader slammed up his mental shields and backed away from the river of lava. He knew exactly where he was and wasn't about to let history repeat itself. He turned in a slow, steady circle. This vision had long since quit being his to control, and Vader was looking for the being who had hijacked it.

"Who are you?" Vader demanded as he activated his lightsaber.

" _I? I am a monument to all of your sins,"_ the voice purred.

Without another word, Darth Vader's vision went black. His eyes snapped open, and nearly slammed shut against blinding light of the pressure chamber. His breaths came rapid and fast as his body demanded oxygen. In his ears, Vader could hear the pounding of his own heart and the distant tapping of his trembling hand.

Using techniques born from years of experience, Vader slowly brought his body under control and tried to make sense of his vision. In his vision, he saw his old enemy and master, Kenobi; his deceased wife, Padme; and where he fell on Mustafar but with a presence that gave even him, a Dark Lord of the Sith, the chills. He had begun with the intent of meditation. Yet meditation was far from what had happened. Vader had reached out in the force and something ancient and twisted had reached back. While he wasn't sure who or what the entity was, he did know one thing. The voice in question was much older and much more dangerous than the Sith. It was not the force alone or book knowledge that told him this. It was a feeling deep down in his broken and scarred bones.

"Perhaps…" Vader began before trailing off.

The idea was an unlikely answer at best and wrong at worst. Troubled, but wishing to not dwell on the experience, Vader went through the process of exiting the chamber. Once free, he produced a special comm-link from his belt and keyed up the proper frequency code. A couple of seconds later, he was rewarded with the face of his most reliable bounty hunter.

"Lord Vader," the bounty hunter began with a touch of annoyance.

Vader dismissed it as one of Boba Fett's common tones. As a rule, the man hated to be interrupted while on a job.

"The timeline has accelerated. Have you found the doctor?" Vader asked.

"Yes. Unfortunately, those two demon droids of hers seem to be especially problematic. I've been trying to quietly separate her from them," Boba Fett answered matter-of-factly.

Vader noted the aggravation rolling off the man in waves. This bounty was clearly causing him problems.

"You will be awarded an extra fifteen thousand if you get her to the drop point in the next forty-eight standard hours," Vader declared.

"Twenty and I'll have her there tonight," Fett offered, "Consider it a onetime hazard fee."

"Tonight, for seventeen and you keep your long-term contract," Vader countered sharply.

The bounty hunter grunted in annoyance as he considered the option.

In the end, he gave a nod and answered, "Done. I expect my payment at the time of delivery."

Vader didn't answer as he clicked off the commlink. He didn't like paying more than he felt the bounty was worth. However, the advantages were hard to come by in this game. Being cheap wouldn't make things any easier.

**(Home One: Somewhere in Hyperspace)**

Leia listened as the blue hologram of a man spoke.

"As of two weeks ago, Death Squadron was declared missing in action. This includes Darth Vader, Admiral Piett, and the superstar destroyer Executor, along with at least 7 Imperial Star Destroyers. Rest assured, we are searching for them with all available resources…" the man began.

Leia listened to the holo-transmission with increasing worry. Either something had just gone horribly wrong or they had just gotten extremely lucky. The intercepted transmission she had been sent did little to help determine what was going on.

Leia thought to herself, _how is Vader missing when he almost destroyed our fleet only days ago?_

After racking her brain for a few minutes for possible answers, Leia sighed in frustration. None of her ideas being remotely in the realm of possibility for the Empire's infamous enforcer and his fleet due to their loyalty to the Empire.

"Unless…" she trailed off as she produced her commlink.

"Yes?" answered a voice that Leia recognized, Mon Mothma. "Mothma here,"

"I just listened to a recording passed on from one of our agents. Something major has happened," Leia quickly explained.

"What is it?" the former Senator asked.

"Vader's gone off the map, Mon. He may have gone rogue in his search to find us," Leia answered.

"What makes you say that?" Mothma pressed.

"He and his fleet are missing, and the Imperial fleet has no idea where he went," she argued before requesting, "Would you please come to the meeting room. Something's definitely changing."

"I'm on my way," Mon Mothma agreed.

**(ISD _Executor_ : 15 hours later)**

Admiral Piett watched impatiently as the woman messed with the control panel. She would watch the screen, punch in a line of code, then watch the screen again in a process that had drug on for over an hour and a half and was promising to continue indefinitely.

"Well, Aphra, can you do it or not?" he demanded.

The woman snickered.

"Of course. Given enough time and the proper persuasion, anything is possible," she answered as she examined the screen, "However, this is going to take time."

"How much time?" Admiral Piett quizzed.

"More than I have," Aphra answered as she pushed her chair back from the workstation.

"That's not how this works," Piett answered as he unsnapped the strap on his holster.

The doctor stood and glared at him with crossed arms.

"Look, you and your boss should have thought about that before destroying both of my droids and kidnapping me," she snapped.

Admiral Piett shook h head.

"Stick around and we might be able to arrange a mutually beneficial deal. However, you have to give us proof that you can do the job," the Admiral calmly argued.

"Please, I've proven myself to your boss more times than I care to count. So, either show me the cash or the door," she retorted.

As they spoke, the two were so caught up in what they were doing, that neither one noticed Vader enter the bridge.

"The door is an airlock, which you will not live long enough to see, and the first half of your payment is in your quarters. You can have it at the end of the day," Vader cut in, bringing their attention to him.

Aphra spun around and quickly protested, "Quarters I haven't seen yet."

"For a reason," Vader shot back as he pointed at her with an accusatory finger, "You will not double-cross me as you did before. There will be no droids to save you this time."

Doctor Aphra fell silent for a moment as she considered her options. On one hand, she was glad to be free of her two droids, as they had developed their own twisted version of sentience. However, working for Vader again was far from appealing. Unfortunately, at this point, it looked like aiding him was her only option.

"Alright, fine. I'll get them online for you, but it will take time," she conceded.

Vader nodded and turned to the Admiral.

"If this happens again, I will find someone else," he declared.

"Yes, sir."

The unspoken threat was not at all lost on the Admiral. He had long since accepted that he would have to work with unsavory characters from time to time. However, anytime that he had the authority to bring one such individual to heal was a welcome change. That was one thing Admiral Piett respected about Darth Vader. Any criminal alliance was born of absolute necessity and generally ended with the individual's death or imprisonment.

**(UNSC Staging Area: One week later)**

Admiral Hood stood on the bridge of the UNSC _Infinity_ and listened to the hushed chatter of the crew. The room, while chaotic, had a soothing effect on the aging admiral. Ten years ago, he would have never expected this ship to make it off the docks, let alone be alive to see it. Of course, nothing had gone to plan in those days.

"And to think two men changed the universe forever," Admiral Hood muttered as he stared out at the stars.

"Two men and a mental A.I.," answered the woman next to him.

Admiral Hood looked over at the ONI officer as though he might argue the point. He paused for a second and thought better of it. Cortana was a hero in her own right, but she had definitely gone "mental" as the agent had put it. Instead, he gave a half-hearted shrug and turned back to the viewport.

"You don't agree with the assessment?" the agent pursued.

"Agent Dare, I worked with Cortana enough to know your statement is an oversimplification," Admiral Hood answered back.

A silence fell over the two as Agent Dare decided against forcing the issue. Next to her, Admiral Hood mentally called up the woman's file. She was a very talented ONI officer that was a part of Section 0 before transferring over to Section 3 on the recommendation of Admiral Osman. Of course, the story was more complicated than that, but, then again, what wasn't more complicated these days. Physically, Agent Veronica Dare was on the small side of ordinary. She stood around five-seven with blond hair that, if ever let down, wouldn't go very far past her shoulders. However, looks were deceptive. She was one of the best and most experienced ONI had post-war. Between Jericho, Reach, and New Mombasa, she had long since earned her stripes.

"Admiral, the Path of Redemption just arrived," announced Captain Lasky.

"What's the class?" Admiral Hood quizzed.

" _CCS_ -class Battlecruiser. It's the first of five expected today," the Captain answered.

Admiral Hood opened his mouth to answer. However, it was the voice of a Commander that was heard.

"Admiral! There are multiple, unknown contacts arriving in the system," the man called.

"Show me," the Admiral ordered as he made his way to the holotable.

At the table, Roland—the Infinity's A.I.—picked up where the Commander had left off.

"Twelve ships inbound… From what I can tell, none are bigger than a cruiser, except one that is bigger than an _Epoch_ -class heavy carrier. However, I won't know more until they break out," Roland explained, "but that's not what caught my attention. What caught my attention is the fact that they're in _real_ space."

"What do you mean?" Agent Dare pressed.

"They're going well over the speed of light, but we are tracking them through real space. From what I can calculate, they should have to correct their course in the system," Roland answered, "Right… about… now!"

"Admiral, the ships have stopped just this side of the moon," a crewman announced.

Taking his cue, Roland pulled up the fleet's exact location on the board. They were just close enough to see, but not in great detail.

"Roland, can we see what exactly we're up against?" Captain Lasky quizzed.

"On the board. With your permission, I'll redirect a squadron for a flyby," Roland answered before launching into an explanation of the ships, "Tonnage puts the lead ship in the heavy carrier category." -Roland highlighted each type of ship in turn- "The ones directly behind and flanking are frigates, while the intermixed ones are the size of medium transports."

"Do a flyby, but I want all weapons locked and put away. I'll finish a fight, but I damn well won't start one," Admiral Hood ordered before turning to Agent Dare and Captain Lasky, "Sound general quarters and bring us up to combat alert alpha. I want everything armed but safeties on." Lasky nodded and got to work, leaving Dare to her orders, "Contact the Arbiter and ask him to do the same, and contact HIGHCOM to inform them of the situation. We're initiating First Contact Protocol."

"Yes Admiral," Agent Dare and Roland acknowledged in unison.

First Contact Protocol was a very specific set of orders that had been formulated and put together before the Human-Covenant War. However, it had seen some updates since the end of that conflict. Keeping in accordance with it, every ship in the fleet came to combat alert alpha; meaning shields were raised to full strength, MAC guns spun up, missiles were primed, and the fighters were fueled and fully loaded for combat. Marines, ODSTs, and Spartans all prepared for boarding action, and the ship's sensors stretched out to encompass the entirety of surrounding space. All that was left was for the Admiral to attempt contact with the other ships. The UNSC fleet didn't wish for a fight, but they had a very big stick waiting if the other side didn't feel the same.

Across the aisle, the Arbiter's fleet fell into a similar stance. Shields came up and plasma cannons warmed. Missiles found their targets of choice, and scanners reached out to determine what they were facing. Infantry and vehicles were prepared for combat, while the ships fell into a stance that was suitable for fighting. It was only one Sangheili, on the bridge of the Shadow of Intent, that kept them from springing into combat.

This was no small task, even for Arbiter Thel 'Vadam and his decades of experience leading his brothers into battle.

"Warm the plasma turrets and load the torpedoes into their tubes. Tell the fleet to tighten formation," the Arbiter ordered.

"Tubes four, five, and six have a solution on the lead ship. Shall we open fire?" asked an officer that was either simply nervous or ready for a bloodbath.

The Arbiter didn't know which was true, nor did he care at that moment.

"No," the Arbiter quickly barked, "We are not Brutes. We will not engage them unless fired upon."

"By your word Arbiter." the Shipmaster of the ship said loudly.

His words prompted the rest of the bridge crew to nod their heads in agreement.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

"By the Force, those ships are massive," muttered one of the bridge officers.

Admiral Akbar found himself unable to respond as he stared at the ships in question. He could easily tell that the fleet in front of them was made of two distinct factions. Concentrated on the left were several dozen angular ships of varying sizes. Each one had a dark grey hull that seemed to fade into the space behind. In the middle of the formation was a much larger ship that seemed to dwarf her escorts. While not as big as the _Executor_ , it was big enough to demand respect and awe. They all had a strange symbol that looked like a planet under a bird that had its wings extended fully with large bold characters that read UNSC in a bold, white text beside other words in the strange language. Some examples were, "UNSC _THERMOPYLAE_ "; "UNSC _COLUMBIA_ "; and the text on the biggest ship read, "UNSC _INFINITY_ ".

To the right was a group of even larger purple ships, though all but one couldn't compare with the massive angular ship with the strange name of ' _INFINITY_ ' in the other group of ships. Unlike the ones on the left, these were much more sleek and organic. Some were similar in appearance to the Mon Calamari cruisers and frigates that the Rebels had in their fleet, but others were totally alien in design.

"Admiral, several smaller ships are approaching on an intercept course," another officer urgently reported.

Admiral Akbar quickly examined his command screen and ordered, "Launch Rogue Squadron to meet them. Tell them to not fire unless fired upon first."

"Yes sir," the man answered crisply.

Satisfied that the man would carry out his orders, the Admiral turned to the rest of the officers, "Open a channel and begin contact protocol. We need to know who we are sharing space with, and if we are trespassing."

For the next couple minutes, silence hung over the bridge as the pack of X-Wings flew out to greet their foreign counterparts. The only sounds heard were the beeps and whirs of the various monitors punctuated by short, clipped reports about the location of the small ships.

Meanwhile, in the cramped cockpit of his X-Wing, Luke Skywalker strained his eyes to see what both R2-D2 and his scanners were telling him existed. Somewhere in front of his squadron was a pack of smaller craft and they were closing fast. He glanced down at his instruments and made the proper adjustments to his course.

Anticipation churned his gut, while his mind advised caution. From this far out, the opposing fleet was only a few specks silhouetted against the brown and green backdrop of a planet. It did not look all too impressive. However, Admiral Akbar had made sure that the entirety of Rogue Squadron knew better.

"This is Rogue Leader to command: Were you able to establish contact?" Luke asked while examining the translation of R2-D2's whistles and beeps.

"Negative. They appear to be trying to talk to us. However, our ship-to-ship communication systems are considerably different," Akbar answered with clear annoyance and a touch of unease.

Luke nodded and acted on his droid's observation.

"Rogue Squadron, break on my mark and let them pass through. We'll drop in behind them," Luke ordered.

"Commander, that's gonna give them a clear shot at the fleet," warned one of the pilots.

Luke didn't respond as he watched R2 rapidly tick down the distance between the two squadrons.

"Break! Break!" Luke called out.

Discipline overwrote any objections and the X-Wings shot off in every direction. Luke took a downward path with Biggs in tow, while the others either went up, left, or right. He risked a glance up just in time to watch seven dark grey craft streak through the space they had just been occupying.

"Keep your s-foils locked in cruise mode and circle around. We'll fall in behind," Luke ordered as he pulled his control yoke back and left, "Green and Blue squadrons will provide immediate cover for the fleet."

The foreign ships loosened their formation but did little else as Rogue Squadron fell in behind them. The ships were about the size of the Alliance's X-Wings, with four thrusters, and two wings in the rear that appeared to be for atmospheric flight.

Luke's focus was broken by a new voice on the command channel.

"Commander, we have a new problem. An Imperial probe was just detected entering the system," Leia cut in over the command channel.

"Where?" Luke demanded as he examined his various screens and heads up display.

"I'm transmitting the coordinates now. It came out much closer to the other fleet. I don't want to display aggression but that probe has to go, _now,_ " Admiral Akbar explained.

There was no missing the emphasis on the word "now" as the Admiral spoke. Luke's mind kicked into overdrive as the Admiral's coordinates came in. That probe was very close to the other fleet. One wrong move and any shot at a peaceful first contact went out the window.

"Biggs, you have command of the squadron. I'm gonna go deal with that probe," he ordered as he broke off from the group, "Don't fire unless you absolutely have to."

Biggs's response went unanswered as Luke dumped every ounce of power he had into the engines. Every second that the probe was operational added to the chance of an Imperial fleet showing up.

**(UNSC Infinity: Sixty seconds ago)**

"Negative sir. They're maintaining formation and distance. Those ships seem content to just watch us," the pilot reported.

Admiral Hood processed the answer to his earlier question and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What the hell are they doing?" Hood muttered to himself, before ordering the pilot, "Watch your six. If things go sideways, stick to minimal engagement and return to the Infinity."

"Yes sir," the pilot answered crisply before closing the channel.

"Roland, where are you on reaching them?" Agent Dare quizzed.

"I've almost got- You bastards!" Roland yelled.

"Admiral, an unknown object just entered the system in sector four. It's up on the board," Captain Lasky announced.

"And that fleet just scrambled their transmissions. Ship-to-ship comms just went dead as well," Roland added bitterly.

"Sir, Echo 1 just reported in. One fighter broke for the pack and is moving toward the fleet," announced a crewman.

"Something lit a fire under his ass. It's speed just doubled," Agent Dare observed as she watched the holotable display.

"It's on an intercept course to the unknown object," Roland reported.

There was a tense silence as Admiral Hood considered his options. From what they could tell, the ship wasn't in a position to fight. However, it was closing with the fleet at quite the impressive speed. If they were going to intercept it, he would have to act very soon.

"Sir, I'd recommend observation instead of engagement," Agent Dare offered, "Every second that fighter goes unchecked is a second that Roland can gather information on it. Should things come to blows, that information could be quite useful."

Admiral Hood nodded and turned to Captain Lasky, "Observe the ship from a distance, but be ready to engage."

"Yes, sir."

"Roland, how long until it's at the object?" Agent Dare quizzed.

"Thirty seconds," Roland answered matter-of-factly before adding, "Power spike in the wings… They just changed configuration and got a huge rush of energy."

"Weapons?" the Admiral quizzed.

"More than likely."

Captain Lasky stopped mid-stride at the confirmation.

"Captain, your orders still stand," Admiral Hood announced.

The Captain nodded and went back to what he was doing. Back at the holotable, it was clear that the ship was holding course and his intent appeared equally clear.

Admiral Hood turned to Roland and ordered, "Tell me about the object."

"It's small, maybe a quarter of the size of a broadsword. No weapons are obvious. However, it is taking in and transmitting signals. The transmissions are heavily coded, and all directed away from us," Roland explained before calling out, "Weapons fired!"

"Admiral, the object's been destroyed. The ship is swinging back around, and it's headed back towards its fleet," Captain Lasky reported.

"Hold your fire. It wasn't shooting at us," Admiral Hood ordered before turning to Roland and barking, "Get me on with that fleet. I want the channel open, now. Also, quietly get a line to the Arbiter open—observation only. He'll want to be involved."

What showed up on the holoscreen would change everything for the UNSC and Swords of Sanghellios.

**(ISD Executor: Four hours later)**

Vader looked at the images with curiosity and worry. The probe had not been able to send back much before being destroyed. However, it did manage to retrieve some interesting images. From what he could see, the Alliance fleet was there and doing about as well as expected.

What he didn't expect was another fleet, many times larger than both his and the Rebel fleet combined. All he could see were outlines but knew that a couple of the ships were just shorter than the Executor. They were obviously flagships. Even a child could see that, but were they the same species or two different races? Even more importantly, would they be a threat to his plans or could they become allies?

These questions and more were racing through his head as he thought of a plan to deal with this unexpected turn of events. Being vastly outnumbered, he needed a way to bolster his fleet. Sadly, the only way at he could do that, would be to seize a nearly abandoned dockyard or shipyard that the Emperor sent old inferior ships like the _Venator_ -class and _Victory_ -class Star Destroyers. At the very least, he would need the ships and time to refit them for automated use. Time… slaving those ships to his fleet would take time.

He moved silently to a Holonet terminal and activated it. There he made a list of remote dockyards and minor shipyards. After two hours of reading, one stood out to him. The Yaga Minor shipyards in the Yaga system. It was near the Unknown Regions, deep in the Outer Rim. The yard was an active military installation, but small enough to be viable with the right resources. As he reviewed the information in front of him, Darth Vader scowled from behind his helmet. It soon became clear that he did not currently have the time or "right resources" to take and hold the shipyard. Attacking that place on his own would be a bad move, but it might be his only choice in his limited time frame. Unless…

Vader spun around and marched toward Admiral Piett.

"Set a course for the probes last known location," he commanded. "And send a shuttle to scout the Yaga Minor system immediately. The shuttle needs to be undetected by the sensors at the shipyards but take note of all the current defenses and ships in the system, not including cargo ships or freighters. Focus on the storage rings."

Admiral Piett flushed the worry from his face before acknowledging the order. Vader, now satisfied that his plans were back on track, walked back to the front of the bridge and awaited the jump to lightspeed.


	3. Battle Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I hope ya'll are enjoying the story so far. Anyways, here is chapter 3.

**(Imperial Shuttle: 5 days later)**

When the shuttle came out of hyperspace it was greeted by the Yaga Minor shipyards. The pilot and co-pilot immediately got to work. Their mission came from Lord Vader himself and they weren't going to disappoint him. They took note of everything—defenses, number of ships in-system, and, most importantly, the number and type of docked ships in the dockyard section of the shipyards. There were _Venator_ , _Victory_ , and even some old _Imperial I_ -class Star Destroyers on base.

"So, what made you stay?" asked the copilot as he examined his screen.

The pilot considered the question with an ever-hardening frown.

"I worked as a fighter pilot assigned to Operation Stardust as a sentry. What I saw was…" he paused as he considered his words, "It was unsettling. In basic training, we were told that the Empire would bring peace and security. The Death Star was not built for that purpose. It was built for the sole purpose of mass destruction. That alone was disturbing, and then there was the constant infighting it bred."

"Vader was a part of that project. So, my question remains. 'Why did you stay?'" the copilot pressed.

The pilot sighed, "Did you know that Tarkin was the one who ordered the destruction of Alderaan? Vader was there to keep the high-ranking officers in line, nothing else, or so I heard before the Death Star's destruction."

The copilot was quiet for a moment, probably to digest the pilot's words. "No, I didn't know." he murmured, "I thought that Vader oversaw the whole thing, not just keep the Moffs and Admirals in line."

"Yeah, I get why you would think that. However, those of us close to the project knew better," The pilot said before clearing his throat. "So, what has the computer listed?" he asked, getting back on task.

The copilot looked at the screen. "Let's see… there's 5 _Venators_ , 6 _Victories_ … damn, there's even a couple old _Imperial-Is_ out there. The nice thing is all of them have already had the Old Republic paint covered over. I can't see what they have in the hangars, but I'd have to guess squadrons of the old V-wing interceptors, ARC 170 heavy fighters, and Z-95 Headhunters. No telling if they have ground equipment though."

"Assuming the hangers haven't been emptied," the pilot noted.

"True."

"What about the defenses of the dockyards?" the pilot asked.

The copilot pressed a button and the screen switched to a list of the defenses the computer found.

"There's a Golan 1 Defense Platform, 4 XQ1 defense platforms, and 2 XQ2 defense platforms. There are also several standalone turbo-laser cannons, proton torpedo launchers, and laser cannons surrounding the Golan. As for a defense fleet, there's 5 ISD-II's and 2 ISD-Is with a small support fleet." the copilot reported before adding, "I hope we're not attacking this unless we bring reinforcements with us."

"Stow that talk ensign. If we attack, then so be it," the pilot snapped.-

"Who's going to know I said it besides you when it's just us here?" the copilot asked incredulously.

It was obvious that the pilot's nerves were frayed.

"Point." the pilot conceded, "But have more faith in our commander."

"I just hope we aren't put in those cramped TIE series if we come here." the copilot moaned, "I just can't get comfortable in the damn things and the controls aren't as sensitive as I usually have."

"Oh, stop your moaning and let's get back to work," the pilot chastised, "Lord Vader will be expecting this, and I don't want to keep him waiting."

Two hours later, they took the final readout from the sensors. After that, the shuttle jumped to hyperspace, on its way back to the remnants of Death Squadron—if that was its name anymore—to report to Darth Vader about what they found at the Yaga Minor dockyards.

**(ISD Executor: 2 days later)**

Vader was pleased with the information that he received from the shuttle mission to the Yaga system. He knew that he could take out the XQ1 and XQ2 platforms easily. The real issue was the Golan 1, the defensive emplacements around the space station, and the defense fleet in the system. He knew that he could smash the fleet or the defenses, but to do both would be costly. What he needed was the Rebellion X-wings, A-wings, and Y-wings. Oh, how he wished that the Y-wing wasn't phased out of service with the inferior TIE Bomber. Unfortunately, it was a symbol of the Old Republic that Palpatine wanted everyone to forget, even at the cost of replacing ships, fighters, and equipment with inferior replacements.

"Admiral Piett," he called after mentally shaking his head of such useless thoughts.

He heard footsteps coming closer to him before stopping.

"Yes, Lord Vader?" Piett asked curiously.

Vader turned to face the man who he was growing to respect and slowly trust.

"I am returning to my quarters. I am not to be disturbed," he ordered.

"Of course. Is there a problem?" Admiral Piett asked.

The entire exchange struck him as off. Vader was not one to waste words on announcing his activities.

"Something is happening. I am addressing it before our mission is compromised," he explained in a noticeably quieter voice.

"Of course."

Darth Vader did not miss the worry radiating out from his Admiral. Behind Piett's unreadable face, he was clearly concerned. However, the Sith did not have the time or patience to address the matter. As such he spun around and marched off the bridge.

**(UNSC Infinity)**

Admiral Hood walked onto the bridge to see Agent Dare submerged in a pile of datapads. She was clearly focused on something. The agent would read some, quickly scribble notes, then switch to another pad and repeat the process.

"So, what have found?" he quizzed.

Agent Dare let out a sigh as she looked up at the Admiral.

"A mess," she answered firmly, "I'm still reading through all of this, but I can safely say that this isn't a fight we should get involved in."

"Alright, give me details," Admiral Hood pressed.

Agent Dare shook her head as her eyes drifted to the datapad in her hand.

"I don't…"

She trailed off as she saw the Admiral's face harden up.

"Alright, I'll give you the tragedy of the 501st attack legion, and their commanding officer Anakin Skywalker. For three years, they acted as a shock trooper unit that was used in a similar capacity as our ODSTs. At first, this wasn't intentional. It was a byproduct of Anakin's _extremely_ aggressive strategies. Against all odds, the unit consistently succeeded with their bold strategies and reckless abandon," she began, "Command recognized the value of his unit in this roll and began bouncing him from hotspot to hotspot. At each place, his unit would break sieges quickly and decisively. Battles that had raged for months were being ended in a matter of hours with his unit. Despite, heavy losses—especially early in the war—his unit remained abnormally loyal to him."

"He commanded from the front, didn't he?" Admiral Hood inferred.

"Ninety-nine percent of all missions involving the 501st also involved General Skywalker leading from the front," Roland confirmed.

"That explains their loyalty," the admiral muttered.

"This was the pattern for most of the war. After each fight, they would often rearm and refit close to the front lines and be immediately redeployed," Agent Dare picked up.

"So, what happened?" Admiral Hood quizzed.

"A trooper snapped and shot one a Jedi point-blank in the back of the head," Roland answered matter-of-factly.

"Three years is quite a long time to be on the frontlines," Captain Lasky noted, "Eventually, people crack."

"We would agree with you except for what happened after the incident. Records are spotty. However, we do know that there was an investigation. That and its findings were quickly and deeply buried by the Chancellor's office," the A.I. declared.

"Fast forward a few months after the investigation and the unit was quietly transferred back to Coruscant for a rearm and refit over the course of a couple of weeks. However, they were not going out to the front lines. They were to be deployed in the Capital," Agent Dare added, "As the rest of the unit went 'home', their commanding officer, a clone Captain by the name of 'Rex', and a special detachment were redirected to the planet of Mandalore to deal with a Darth Maul, an enemy of the Jedi at the time. However, their General was not present. Instead, it was Skywalker's former Padawan, Ahsoka Tano who led the unit. From what I can tell, she was on the ground already and had previous, extensive experience with Rex and the 501st. By the time 'Order 66', as it was called, came down, Ahsoka and Rex went AWOL and disappeared."

Admiral Hood frowned as he mentally called up what the Alliance delegation had told them.

"He knew what was happening," he noted.

"That's what I think. He knew and had no wish to be a part of it. Regardless, the march on the temple happened three days later as Mothma explained," Agent Dare confirmed, "From what I'm reading, it's like someone flipped a switch in the army and Anakin was lost in the attack as a result of it, probably trying to defend him fellow Jedi."

Hood nodded thoughtfully. "Did they ever find his body? He asked curiously, a theory starting to form in his head.

Dare looked through her notes and a couple of datapads before shaking her head. "I don't think so. All the bodies were never searched by those outside the 501st besides the Emperor and close confidants. He could have survived but it's not very well known."

Admiral Hood nodded and followed up, "that proves that there is merit to their story about the Empire's rise."

"Yes, but Roland was able to slip into their internal systems and get records on the leadership. Most of them are ex-Imperials. Two are former senators, several are former officers, and others headed up other rebel cells on planets under Imperial control. They are all people who lost power and status due to the Emperor," Agent Dare warned.

"So, this is all just a power grab?" the Admiral asked skeptically.

"Probably not. However, we're sorting through thirty years of extremely muddy history. That Skywalker kid is a good example," Agent Dare corrected with a frown, "He shouldn't exist. His father was officially never married."

"Since when is marriage a prerequisite for having children?" Admiral Hood countered.

"The fact that he holds his father's name means that his father was relevant to his life's story in some way. I got to talking to Luke when I was on the Home One finalizing details for the supply order. He said he never knew his father. Instead, he was raised by his aunt and uncle," Agent Dare argued.

Admiral Hood nodded in understanding. There was a missing piece, and he was sure he knew what it was. His father's name had been mentioned in passing during the meeting. A look of sorrow flashed across his face before being replaced with an unreadable mask.

"Alright. Get a briefing packet together for HIGHCOM. Don't worry about the work crews. Commander Palmer is over there making sure that there's no trouble with them," Admiral Hood ordered.

Unfortunately, thirty years of war with the Covenant had forged an extremely xenophobic generation of soldiers and civilians. Given the mixed-race crews of the Alliance fleet, the less than sunny disposition of his men was making itself known. Luckily nothing had escalated past the occasional verbal altercation. However, Admiral Hood didn't want to just wait for that to happen. So, he had ordered Commander Palmer and several, more open-minded, Spartans to keep the men in line while they worked.

Over the next five days, everyone fell into a rhythm with their work. Under the ever-watchful eye of the joint fleet, Admiral Akbar and his crew worked tirelessly to get their ships travel-worthy again. Both factions had firmly refused to get involved in the conflict but were willing to let him repair his ships before leaving. While very disappointing, no one was surprised given that each faction had just come out of a major war.

It was on the fifth day that the Rebel's worst fears became reality. Commander Palmer was standing on the bridge of the _Home One_ at the time. She looked up from the datapad in her hand just in time for alarms to start wailing.

"Admiral! Several Imperial ships have just dropped out of Hyperspace" the communications officer cried.

"Can you identify them?" Akbar asked, swiveling his command chair to look at the man.

"Markings match those of Vader's fleet," the officer reported.

Commander Palmer swore, put her helmet on, and opened a channel to the _Infinity_. Things just got complicated.

"Admiral Hood-"

"We see them. The fleet is holding station behind the moon with shields raised. Tell the Admiral not to engage unless fired on. They are probably going to hail us first as we are the biggest force. Also, the Arbiter is deploying his fleet to cover them. Vader has a lot to shoot through before he reaches those ships," the Admiral ordered.

"Sir, would it be better that we don't get involved?" Commander Palmer suggested.

"We're not," the Admiral informed her, "However, I'm not going to allow open warfare in UNSC space."

"Understood sir. Should I return to _Infinity_?" Palmer asked.

"No Commander, stay there and keep an eye on things. I don't trust them not to do anything rash. That said, see that the work crews evacuate to the _Infinity_. I'd prefer to have all non-combat personnel behind some thicker armor if things go bad," the Admiral answered.

"Understood sir they'll be off shortly," Palmer replied before cutting the channel and taking off her helmet.

She turned around to see the Admiral looking at her expectantly. Commander Palmer quickly and concisely relayed Admiral Hood's orders to the Admiral and other officers on the bridge.

"He's going to start a fight," warned Leia.

"If he does then he's dead." Palmer retorted, "He knows it and should act accordingly."

"You haven't seen him in action, have you?" General Graven challenged.

Commander Palmer allowed a thin smile.

"When you've seen the Covenant in a fight, you've seen pretty much everything, including suicide charges." she said bluntly before smugly adding, "Besides, we have just a bit more discipline as a military. Only the Split-lips have something that could beat us in that."

General Graven shrugged and whispered something to Leia that Commander Palmer didn't hear. However, she didn't care. The message had gotten through.

"Alright. We'll try it your way," Admiral Akbar agreed reluctantly, hoping that nothing would blow out of proportion.

Satisfied, Commander Palmer went to work on her second task of getting the noncoms off the ship.

**(SSD Executor: Same time)**

Darth Vader stared at the holo table with the same worried expression as his Admiral. They had not stumbled onto some small group of ships as he saw from the probe data. No, the fleet orbiting the planet was hundreds of times his own fleet size. Buried deep within their ranks was the Alliance fleet. In the Force, their fear and hatred radiated out like an infrared beacon. However, on the table, they neatly blended with the rest of the ships. Vader dove deeper into the force as he attempted to determine which ship to hail.

 _"Infinity,"_ whispered the Force.

"That ship," he announced, pointing to the larger angular ship, "Hail the one called the Infinity."

"I beg your pardon, but wouldn't it seem more logical for this one to be the flagship," Admiral Piett offered, gesturing to the larger, more organic looking, ship.

"No. I have felt it. That ship is the one we must speak to," Vader declared as he stabbed the first ship with his finger.

"Yes, My Lord," Admiral Piett answered crisply.

The Admiral recognized the tone in Darth Vader's voice. Arguing his point anymore would surely be a fatal move. On top of that, the Admiral had little reason to argue with his superior's "feelings". Though he did not understand the Force, Piett could remember no instance of Vader being wrong when he used it, discarding his facing the young brat Skywalker. Even then, his predictions had been almost always accurate. His ability to counter the much younger, less predictable Rebel left some to be desired, though.

Admiral Piett flushed the thoughts from his mind and set to work on the task at hand. He signaled the comm officer to follow Vader's instructions.

A moment later, the holo table lit up and showed a _human_ wearing a strange uniform.

 _And the galaxy gains a new facet_ , Piett thought, looking at the elderly man.

"This is Admiral Piett of Death Squadron." he announced, "Please identify yourself."

The man's gaze hardened, and his lips formed a thin line.

"I am Fleet Admiral Hood of the UNSC. Before you ask, I am protecting the 'Rebels' as you call them is because I will not have a battle started by foreign powers in UNSC territory. If you wish to speak diplomatically then do so. If not, you are welcome to leave _without_ your quarry." the man said firmly.

His tone brokered no argument from the Admiral he was speaking to. Darth Vader immediately had the information he needed and stepped up to the screen.

"We intend to open diplomatic talks with you, the group you are allied with, and the Alliance leadership," Darth Vader declared.

Admiral Hood blinked twice as he processed what he had just heard.

"It was my understanding that the fleet was wanted by your Empire," he countered.

"They are not the only ones. We have much to discuss and little time. My Admiral is sending over a file of information. I trust that you and the Alliance will find it to be sufficient proof of our motives," Darth Vader declared.

Taking his cue, Admiral Piett inserted a data card into the holo table and used his code cylinder to send the information to both the Infinity and the Home One. Admiral Hood stepped back and conversed with someone on screen. After he was done, the Admiral addressed the two Imperials.

"We have received it and will review it immediately. I will contact you again in one hour. Until then, hold your position," he announced.

Admiral Piett nodded and the UNSC admiral disappeared from the screen.

"It seems that we have natives to work with now," Piett muttered to no-one.

Vader heard him anyway.

"This is the risk of meticulously thought out plans." Vader said, "When an error makes itself clear, you must revise the plan with that error in mind. If done correctly, the error will degrade into a nuance of the plan."

Piett nodded thoughtfully. He had served under Vader enough to know the man was trying to teach him something valuable. That same experience told him that the Dark Lord had no intention of repeating himself.

Vader walked to the front of the bridge, intending to study the ships that could either be his enemies or, he hoped, his new allies.

**(UNSC Infinity)**

Admiral Hood looked first at Captain Lasky, then Roland.

"Alright, what did we just get sent?" he began.

Roland didn't miss a beat as he answered, "Personnel files, fleet deployment orders, and…"

The AI trailed off into a blank stare that concerned the Admiral.

"Snap out of it, Roland!" Captain Lasky barked.

Roland jumped as he was snapped back into his avatar. The A.I. didn't neglect his avatar often. It only happened when he got especially lost in something interesting or concerning. This time it was both.

Roland's avatar started moving again after Lasky spoke. Lasky had seen this before many times over the years serving as Captain with Roland as the _Infinity's_ shipboard AI. He shook his head and looked at Lasky gratefully, silently thanking him for snapping him out of his trance, before sobering up and looking at Admiral Hood with a serious expression.

"Sorry sir, I tend to neglect my avatar when new information is interesting or concerning enough." Roland apologized.

Hood nodded thoughtfully, having heard of the AI's fits of "zoning out" in Lasky's reports.

"What has you so interested Roland?" Hood asked seriously, knowing that Roland was going to drop a bomb of information on them.

"I know what happened to the kid's father sir, and it isn't pretty," Roland said.

"Spit it out, Roland," Lasky groaned, knowing that Roland would keep hesitating if he wasn't ordered to spill the beans.

"It would be easier to show you sirs, preferably in private," Roland answered truthfully.

He didn't want this information to get out, especially to the Rebels. It would shatter their trust in the young kid if they learned this the wrong way. Hood nodded and motioned for Lasky to join him in the captain's ready room. He caught Agent Dare making to follow them, but he motioned for her to keep on her current task. They had to know what they were dealing with as in-depth as they could. He would brief the Agent later. They didn't want a repeat of their naivete before the War.

The door hissed shut behind the two officers, and Roland instantly re-appeared on the holoprojector.

"That suit isn't a combat suit," the A.I. quickly began, "It's a life support unit."

"What happened to him?" Lasky quizzed.

"In short, he got cut to pieces and left to die. That said, he deserved it in my opinion," Roland answered.

Admiral Hood opened his mouth to speak but closed it as the lights dimmed. Roland pointed to a regular screen on the back wall. In response, the two men turned and watched.

"What you two are about to watch happened twenty years ago. It is a collection of videos and images from a mining complex on the planet of Mustafar," Roland explained.

Admiral Hood nodded and watched the screen. The first images were still shots. He recognized the man in each shot as General Skywalker. His gloved hand and wavy hair were hard to mistake. However, these images were far different than the Clone War images he had seen before. His sharp blue eyes and set jaw were replaced with yellow eyes of fire and a tight, maniacal grin.

"I know that look," muttered Captain Lasky.

Admiral Hood slowly nodded in agreement. He knew it as well. The man was consumed by some power. It was clearly new to him, and he had not yet learned to keep it in check.

For the next several minutes, Admiral Hood watched the unfolding of a horror story. He tilted his head curiously as a ship landed on the outside landing pad. It was a smooth silver vessel, with foreign markings. Down the ramp walked a woman in her mid-twenties with tightly braided hair and a horrified face. The audio was hard to hear. However, Admiral Hood didn't really need it to know what was happening. Skywalker's movements became more frantic as he paced the landing pad.

 _Get out of there,_ he thought.

Admiral Hood had to remind himself that the woman would not have had access to the same information that he had just seen. He winced as he watched the scene unfold. As the woman collapsed, another man in tan robes entered the frame. Admiral Hood recognized him Obi-Wan from the packet of information he obtained from the Alliance. The battle that followed was equal parts disturbing and awe-inspiring at the same time. Various cameras, security or otherwise, caught the duel as the two men cut their way through room after room. It eventually came to a stop the shoreline of a lava flow.

"It's over Anakin! I have the high ground," announced the man in tan robes.

"You underestimate my power!" Skywalker shouted back.

"Definitely drunk on his power," Admiral Hood whispered.

Like many things in the video, what happened next played out in the worst way possible. Anakin jumped. It was a high jump to be sure. Admiral Hood judged it to be a vertical distance of at least eight feet. However, in the end, his teacher's blade still met him at knee height. Limbs flew, and Anakin dropped to the ground in agony. He writhed and screamed as his body seared on the rocks. Obi-Wan shouted at the dying man from the top of the berm. Between the man's wavering voice and the poor audio, Admiral Hood could only guess at what he was saying. It was only the last sentence that came in loud and clear.

"You were my brother Anakin! I loved you!" cried the man on the shore.

Even with the distorted audio, his anguish came through loud and clear. The only response was an inhuman scream as what was left of Anakin went up in flames. Obi-Wan stared at his former padawan for another minute before finally turning his back and walking away. As he disappeared into the ash and smoke, the screen went blank. For several seconds, silence reigned as the two officers considered what they had just seen.

"That explains the suit. What does it have to do with the younger Skywalker?" Captain Lasky finally asked.

"Remember the woman at the beginning?" Roland needlessly asked.

Lasky nodded.

"Here's another shot of her, from ground level," he declared.

On cue, a second shot of the landing pad appeared on the screen.

"She was his wife," Admiral Hood noted before finishing in his head, _"And very pregnant"_

Captain Lasky turned to his superior and skeptically asked, "Are you sure about that? She could just be-"

"No," the Admiral cut in sharply, "Look how she runs down the ramp and then look at her eyes. She trusted Skywalker, and she loved him."

"So, she was pregnant with Luke at the time," Captain Lasky continued.

"Plus, another. One of the medical records has her bearing twins. According to planetary records, she died on the table," Roland added clinically, "I'll send the particulars to a datapad for you to read later. However, in short, Imperial records have her dying 'on a mission' two days prior. Vader didn't kill her, but that's the story he was told for years."

Admiral Hood swore as he realized what Roland was alluding to.

"Was any of this sent to the Alliance?" he asked with obvious worry.

He didn't want to find out the hard way how the Alliance felt about family connections.

"No. We were the only ones to get this information. They just got his medical records and suit blueprints," the A.I. reassured him.

"Good. See that it's all they get," the Admiral ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Roland disappeared, and the two men exited the ready-room.

"Why would he give this information to us?" Captain Lasky asked, "He doesn't strike me as a man that takes pride in failure or stupid decisions, and that was both."

"The Alliance is going to claim that he is a liar who can't be trusted. They have and will continue to label him a murderous, blindly devoted tool of the Empire. What we were given is a story that thoroughly undercuts that," Admiral Hood explained, "He was a man who got drunk on power, sobered up, and is now going after the people he holds responsible."

"And the Alliance isn't genuinely on his shortlist," Captain Lasky reasoned.

"Precisely."

"Doesn't mean he isn't dangerous," cut in Agent Dare.

"Of course not," Captain Lasky readily agreed.

"No. You don't get it. I just got done putting together a profile from what Roland got me. He is fucking _dangerous_ ," the Agent emphatically restated.

"Explain," Admiral Hood ordered.

"Here's a datapad with the full workup. In short, he's a mess. He has a pattern of intense and unstable relationships, that is quite evident- even through the tinted lens of official reports. He's impulsive and takes extremely unnecessary risks. I think you'll find he has a mood that can change on a dime. His life story is basically one traumatic event after another. If he has what I think he has, Vader is a loaded gun, and no one will want to be around when he goes off," Agent Dare explained.

Lasky smirked slightly.

"You didn't get all of that from what they gave us did you?" he asked knowingly.

Dare glared at him but nodded grudgingly, knowing that she shouldn't keep secrets from UNSC brass, and especially not the captain of the flagship of the UNSC.

"I might have done some extra digging," she allowed.

"Well, you're out of luck. Commander Palmer says the Alliance wants to have a talk with him. They are requesting that it happens either the Infinity or the Shadow of Intent," Roland declared as if he didn't hear Lasky's question.

Admiral Hood didn't immediately respond as he considered his options. Both ships had their pros and cons. However, Admiral Hood wanted control of every variable possible.

"Bring everyone to the Infinity. Captain Lasky, prepare a conference room and recall Commander Palmer. Have her work with the Arbiter to set up security for the meeting," Admiral Hood ordered before turning to Roland, "Contact the Executor and tell them the decision. I am allowing three people from each party. Only one person from each may be armed, and it sure as hell _will_ not be Vader.

He turned to the holo table that displayed Vader's fleet and leaned on the table.

"He has enough weapons as it is if the reports are true." the Admiral murmured under his breath.

"Yes sir," Roland and Captain Lasky responded in unison.

Roland's avatar disappeared and Lasky moved away, planning on following his orders to the letter.

**(Shadow of Intent: 10 minutes later)**

Arbiter Thel 'Vadam was both a capable leader and a skilled warrior. Sadly, this included the ability to maneuver politics. He seemed to have a gift for diplomacy. It was what the UNSC would call aggressive diplomacy, but still diplomacy. He had little to fear as he boarded the Phantom that would ferry him to the _Infinity_. His secret was that he knew and highly respected both men running the ship.

Adding to this sense of security, he was quite familiar with all the Spartans that Commander Palmer had assigned to security for his group. All of them were Spartan IVs, but they had helped him end the war on Sanghellios years ago a few years ago. After Sunion, the Arbiter and Spartan Locke had a few bumps in the road, as the saying goes, but they soothed it over in the occasional joint mission and sparring match. That said, his ultimate respect for any human went to the Demon, the Master Chief. The Arbiter recalled the memories with pride. They had both fought valiantly and with great honor.

The Arbiter reflected on this and more as his streaked across the star-studded vacuum of space. Minutes later, he felt his stomach drop as the ship set down on the cold, titanium deck of the _Infinity_. In the split second it took for fireteam Osiris to greet him, the Arbiter noticed that most of the hanger's crew had been replaced by fully armed Marines and the occasional ODST added in the mix.

"This is quite the welcome," the Arbiter observed mildly.

"Sorry about the cold welcome Arbiter. Security is tight across this level," Spartan Locke explained, "It's nothing personal."

'Vadam nodded his head. His mandibles tightened slightly in the Sangheili version of tightening their lips. It hadn't taken him long to realize his ship was the only one in the hanger.

"And what of the other two parties? Have they not arrived yet?" the Sangheili followed up.

"They have. Each ship was sent to a different hanger. We are trying to minimize their contact. That way there is less risk of conflict," Locke reassured him.

"Good. Then let us not keep them waiting," the Arbiter concluded as he marched for the rear blast doors, knowing exactly where to go.

After all, he had been in that very room not so long ago. It quickly became clear that Locke wasn't lying when he said that security was tight. The marines at every bulkhead quickly gave way to ODSTs; who later gave way to Spartan IVs. After what felt like an eternity, fireteam Osiris lead the Arbiter into a massive room with grey walls and a massive oak table. At this table were enough chairs for twenty people. Nine of the chairs were occupied by people from the Alliance, Empire, and UNSC, while three Sangheili Spec-Ops soldiers helped the infamous "Blue Team" stand guard along the walls.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

_Hiss-puff_

The sound was constant, loud, and rhythmic. It also cut deep into Leia's mind. When she had first walked in, her eyes turned to saucers as her breath caught. No one said a word, but it was obvious that no one missed the reaction either. Leia quickly found her breath. Oxygen flowed, and her chest tightened. As time marched on, the pain grew and sweat coated her hands. Leia closed her eyes and took a deep breath of her own. She had to ease the tension if she was going to be of any use in this conversation. While the highly visible security was good, it did little to ease her fears. The memories were too recent and the pain too much for her to simply push aside. Leia had been this close to Vader twice in her life. The first was for a series of ever-worsening interrogations on the Death Star. The second was on Bespin when Lando sold them out.

Leia allowed a sigh of relief when the last member of the meeting walked into the room. He was a tall, bipedal humanoid with four jaws and shining gold armor. Everything about the "Arbiter", as he was called, demanded respect. The Arbiter was a towering creature that held his head high and carried a clear air of authority.

"I presume you are the Sangheili that Admiral Hood spoke of," she began.

"I am," the Arbiter confirmed.

"It is good to finally meet you in person," Leia acknowledged with a well-practiced smile.

She noted that the sight of Vader did little to phase Arbiter. It was almost as though he regarded Darth Vader as a simple fact of life and not an actual threat.

"Can I interest anyone in a drink?" asked Captain Lasky as he made his way to the back-wall liquor cabinet.

Leia smiled softly as she politely rejected the offer. It was a well-executed diplomatic move that was as old as time itself. The offer of alcohol not only broke the ice but would often loosen the lips of anyone that indulged. Thus, tense conversations became easier. Admiral Hood accepted the offer—as expected—along with Admiral Piett, and Mon Mothma. Vader didn't answer, while Commander Appo, the Arbiter, and Luke also rejected the offer. Captain Lasky took note of the answers and poured an appropriate amount of glasses. At the table, a tense silence reigned as each person sized up every other person around them. Once Captain Lasky took a seat, Leia took the lead.

"Alright. Everyone is here and listening. What is it that you want, Vader?" Leia demanded.

Vader didn't miss a beat as he answered, "To form an alliance against the Emperor. He is not the man that he was, and I refuse to let him destroy the galaxy more than he has already."

Leia bit back her knee-jerk response and followed up, "How, exactly, has he changed in the last twenty years?"

Vader didn't immediately respond, and Leia thought she the Commander smirk ever-so-slightly as he traded looks with Admiral Piett.

"He's all but abandoned his empire in favor of personal power," Admiral Piett finally answered.

"He has made the Imperial government unsustainable and has committed atrocities for which there is no excuse," Vader declared.

"You're one to talk," Mothma retorted, "Many of his war crimes have been carried out by you."

"Most of the crimes that you know of. The galaxy is a large place Senator _,_ and I am not always in its darkest corners. I suggest being more mindful when you cast blame _,_ " Vader corrected.

That once declaration sent a shiver down Leia's back. At best, it implied that the Alliances intelligence on the Empire was focused on the wrong person, and at worst it implied that absolutely nothing about this war was as it seemed.

"What do you mean?" Luke picked up.

"All in due time young Skywalker. We have more pressing matters to discuss at this time." Vader replied vaguely.

"And what would these 'pressing matters' be Vader?" Leia asked.

Her voice was calm but laced with venom.

"Perhaps you would like to start with killing Emperor Palpatine before he finds a way to destroy most of the known galaxy," Vader suggested coldly.

Admiral Hood's eyes visibly widened at the comment. It was obvious that Vader had hit a nerve with the man.

"How would he do that?" the Admiral demanded.

"The Emperor has been looking to achieve immortality. There are ways that one can do that through the force. However, most of the known ones involve mass death on a planetary or interplanetary level," Darth Vader elaborated, "At the very least, I presume you want to kill him while that is still an option."

"That would be ideal," Mon Mothma conceded before skeptically adding, "While I am not well versed in matters of the Force, I presume that immortality is not easy to achieve."

"No. The ancient Sith took most of the required information with them to the grave. What wasn't lost to history was destroyed by the Jedi over the course of the next millennia. The knowledge Palpatine has is purely academic at this point," Vader confirmed.

"Make no mistake. It will not stay academic," Commander Appo added gravely.

As he spoke, the Commander passed over two datapads. One went to Leia and one went to Admiral Hood—that one being translated to their script.

"Admiral Hood, your fleet wishes to visit the deep core region. Why?" Vader quizzed.

Leia turned to the Admiral just in time to see him lean back in his seat. She could see the gears turning in the man's head.

"Lord Hood, we have provided you with extremely compromising information. This was provided in good faith. We are simply asking for the same courtesy in return," Admiral Piett slightly pressed.

Leia watched the Admiral's face instantly harden.

"If you are expecting us to share confidential information to those who have proven that they cannot be trusted, from _both_ parties here, then you are gravely mistaken." The Arbiter declared in lieu of Hood's silence.

Leia opened her mouth to protest.

However, it was Darth Vader's voice that boomed out, "There is plenty of information proving the accuracy of our claims."

"As there is with ours," Leia added.

Admiral Hood held his hand up to silence the two.

"For starters, _princess._ I've done my time fighting Insurrectionists… Rebels as you know them. I know how information is twisted and withheld," he began before turning to Vader, "You are right. Personal opinions aside, I do not doubt the information you provided. I want to know what you assume is our mission."

"Your systems were untouched. I know not what this fleet is after. However, I have foreseen certain events. You wish to go into the core. If things continue as they are, only death and destruction will be the result of your mission," Vader elaborated.

Hood nodded but was unsettled seeing the "Force", as they called it, at work for the first time.

"What did you come here for Vader? I know it wasn't to say hello and sell girl scout cookies." Hood asked, getting to the point.

Vader looked at Hood in annoyance beneath his mask, not liking the tone that the elder Admiral used. Leia found it alarming that she knew Vader enough to read the subtle changes in his body language.

"What are 'girl scout cookies'?" the young Jedi curiously whispered.

Hood and Lasky gave him a look that said, 'seriously?' before focusing back on Vader, who they knew was about to answer.

"No. I did not. I have come to discuss the formation of an alliance against the Emperor," Vader confirmed.

"The Emperor that killed your family?" Hood asked.

Vader nodded and Mothma froze with her drink halfway to her lips, her hand nearly letting go of the glass. One could hear a pin drop as looks of shock flew across the room.

"Your family?" Mon Mothma asked incredulously.

Both she and Leia watched Luke shift ever so slightly in discomfort.

"Yes," Darth Vader answered with a nod.

In one swift stroke, every assumption they had about Vader was thrown into question.

"What were you told?" Lasky asked, knowing where this was going and curious to see if it would be revealed in its entirety.

"Enough," Vader deftly sidestepped, "The fate of my family is not why we are here."

Leia looked over at Mon Mothma with a worried expression. There was nothing in their packet of information to explain the Captain's question. What had the UNSC been told? That was something that she was concerned about, and she would do her best to find out what it was. If the Empire was sharing lies with the UNSC, this could be a _very_ one-sided alliance between the Rebels and Vader. However, now was not the time or place for those questions. There was the faintest hope that they could create an unstoppable- even if temporary- alliance and getting sidetracked was not the way to create it. She learned that the hard way while trying to convince potential allies of the Rebellion to join them. After losing a couple to her curiosity, she swore to never let it get the better of her again.

"Alright. So, what are the principles neither side will compromise on?" Admiral Hood prompted.

"That is what we were trying to establish, Admiral," Commander Appo responded sharply, getting thoroughly annoyed with this meeting, "This war is yours as well. So, I will ask again, what is your purpose for visiting the core?"

Hood looked at Appo sharply, making the commander shift slightly in his seat.

" _This war_?" he asked, "This war is not the UNSC's or the Swords' war. I suggest you _and_ your subordinates appreciate that. Compared to what we have just finished less than a _decade_ previous, this _squabble_ is nothing."

"Do not be so proud of your survival Admiral. The inability of one race to effectively wage war does not make the other a Master of It," Vader snapped back.

"Wage a thirty-year war against a superior foe that destroys your planets and massacres your civilians and we shall see if you keep that sentiment," Admiral Hood argued.

"The core planets are the seat of power for the galaxy. Whatever you do there will have a profound and historic impact on the entire galaxy. The Emperor will not take lightly to an incursion of that magnitude. He will follow you back and his invasion will be much bigger than that of the Covenant," Admiral Piett cut in.

Leia shook her head as Admiral Hood defiantly responded. As much as she wanted to jump into the middle, she knew better. There was no way that the Admiral or the Arbiter were getting out of this. However, it was going to take quite an intense conversation to accept this fact. Leia didn't like to admit it, but there were no better people to convince Admiral Hood than Vader and Admiral Piett. The two men knew the Imperial military mindset far more intimately than she ever would. All she had to do is make sure that Vader didn't play the UNSC against the Alliance.

"Even if they could do that, as you suggest, we have ways of insulating ourselves from invasion," Admiral Hood finally declared.

"And how many of your citizens will have to die?" Darth Vader retorted before tilting his head, "I feel the fear rising within you. What do you fear so much that you would risk condemning billions in order to destroy _it_?"

"Something that would put all of your technological achievements to shame by the push of a button. This 'Death Star' that the Rebels destroyed is _nothing_ compared to what we are planning against." Hood said cryptically grim before adding, "You must pray that it has not been found by the Empire or that it has been unleashed or we shall all pay the price for it."

Much to Leia's surprise, it wasn't Vader who spoke next. It was the commander she had never met before this meeting. Commander Appo leaned across the table and locked eyes with the Admiral.

"No. That is not good enough," Appo hissed, "I have put up with twenty-three years of backstabbing and lies. I have played the games and performed the dances. Just this once, I need a straight and complete answer on what the hell is happening to the galaxy I swore to defend."

Much to the princess's surprise, the soldier's expression softened ever so slightly. While his face remained stone-like, the ice in his eyes cracked to reveal years hidden of pain.

"If you earn the trust that is required, you will know what we are facing. Not before." Hood said.

"And who made you the expert on this mysterious catastrophe waiting to happen?" Appo retorted.

Hood shook his head, "I'm not even the expert on what we are facing, the Arbiter and the Master Chief are. Convince them that you won't destroy the universe and you'll convince me."

Appo turned to face the Master Chief, who was facing the table but not showing any other movement, as if he was a droid or robot.

"Why would I need to earn the trust of a common soldier?" the Commander demanded.

"He has the most experience with this object," Admiral Hood answered coolly.

It was at this moment that Mon Mothma felt it was time to get between the two.

"Alright. It is clear that we have hit an impasse. Instead of outright rejecting what is being said, I believe our time would be best considering what has been said. In my time, I have seen too many people jump or not jump without looking. I know the Alliance will need to discuss what Vader has put on the table," the former Senator suggested before turning to the Imperial delegation, "If in two hours these people still hold the same position, both of us will back off and discuss the terms of an alliance without the Swords or UNSC."

Admiral Hood turned to the Arbiter and shrugged. Unlike the other people at the table, they had time. They were not wanted men, and from what he could tell, the site had not been found yet. The Arbiter nodded, and Admiral Hood turned to Mothma.

"Alright. We will take a two-hour break to consider things. There are common areas on either end of the wing. Each delegation can consider matters in one of the areas, and we will remain here," Admiral Hood agreed.

The Imperial and Rebel delegations rose and left through opposite exits, escorted by their own squad of ODSTs. This left Admiral Hood, the Arbiter, and the Master Chief to discuss what they should do.

Hood turned to the Chief, who was still at the wall and gestured him over.

"Since you and the Arbiter have the most experience with the Halos, what are your opinions on what each brings to the table?" Hood asked.

The Arbiter turned to the Demon and nodded his head only slightly, indicating that he speaks first.

"Neither side wants to fire the ring," the Chief answered, "I can't say the same about the Emperor."

"I agree. If he learns about the ring, he might try to use it as a weapon," Admiral Hood affirmed.

"Then there is the Flood. If they get released, the no one from that side will be equipped to deal with the threat," the Chief added.

"Not with the fleet before us. However, one does not simply take over a galaxy. I will reserve my tactical judgment of the Empire as a whole until I have seen them in battle," the Arbiter added in.

"That is true, but their ascendance was, in reality, the Great Schism of the Covenant in reverse. Politics played a much more central role than conventional warfare," Captain Lasky noted.

"Hmm… built on the back of another government… Then I stand with the Demon. They are tactically compromised and will not survive an outbreak," the Arbiter decided before adding, "If the core is, in fact, their seat of power, then it is only a matter of time before this "Empire" discovers the ring. Given the instability of their leader, the firing of the ring will come shortly after."

"What about Darth Vader? He isn't nearly as unhinged as I expected," Captain Lasky added.

"No. He is a man with a mission. I didn't miss the way he deflected the question of family. I did, however, notice how Skywalker fidgeted when the topic of his family came up," Admiral Hood agreed.

"The man's drive could make Vader a vital ally, or a terrible enemy," the Arbiter warned, "I dealt with his kind within the Covenant. Whatever our decision is, I would advise staying out of that man's way."

"If it reaches that point, we will deal with him with no restrictions on lethality," Hood stated, having done the same thing with some ONI agents gone rogue in the past, "But until he becomes a problem, I will be the last to stand in his way."

"Both Vader and Leia had a point. Whether we like it or not, the UNSC and Swords are about to become part of a much larger universe. As it stands, the Empire has also shown itself to be the most relevant threat in this new galaxy," Captain Lasky admitted.

"They have, but we can't afford to get drawn into a long, protracted war while that Halo ring is a factor," Admiral Hood countered.

"No. We cannot. However, neither side appears to be interested in a protracted war either. Vader is clearly in the endgame of whatever he is planning against the Emperor, and the Alliance isn't far behind. The groundwork for a conventional military is present," the Arbiter declared, "There could be value in hearing their plans. If the strategy is adequate, we could decisively neutralize the Imperial threat and destroy the Halo in one decisive blow."

"It'll have to be a damn good one. I know we have the fleet to go to war, but if we lose it all over there, our respective societies are going to be on thin ice," Admiral Hood warned.

For the rest of the hour, every party considered what had been revealed in the meeting. Ideas were reconsidered, and concerns were raised. At the end of the hour, the parties came back together and discussed what the exact agreement would be.

"The UNSC and Swords of Sanghellios have considered what you both have to offer and we have decided that there is only one question we need to be answered," Admiral Hood declared before turning to the Imperial party, "What is your strategy for quickly destroying the Emperor."

Admiral Hood had expected this to be the killing blow. The stunned silence on the part of the Alliance leaders seemed to prove him right. After a couple of seconds of tense silence, Vader plugged a data card into the table's holoprojector.

"Put simply I intend to march on Coruscant, the Emperor's capital," Vader announced.

Admiral Hood blinked.

"Just like that?" the man skeptically asked.

"No," Vader corrected as he called up the holo map, "First we move on the Yaga Minor shipyards and seize the warships docked there. Then we move on to the old Rothana industrial complex and take the resources abandoned there. After that, we move on Coruscant."

"And that plan won't last beyond the first battle. The Emperor's grip has loosened, but he still maintains too much control to risk an actual military offensive," Mon Mothma quickly protested.

Admiral Piett took over from there, knowing Vader's plan nearly to the letter, "You are thinking of the Clone Wars era tactic that the Separatists used, which was to use overwhelming force. What we are proposing is much like what you have been doing to evade us, hit and fade attacks, attacking, doing as much damage as realistically possible, then retreating to the fleet. Yaga Minor has a poultry defense force that even Death Squadron and your fleet could defeat easily. Leave the military tactics to those suited to create and use them senator. Your field is in politics. While that in itself is going to be important later in the campaign, it is not relevant now."

Mothma ignored the thinly veiled insult and quizzed, "And how, exactly, is my expertise in politics going to play a part?"

"That shall be revealed in time Senator." Vader rumbled

"No," Leia cut in forcefully, "We are about to put everything we believe in and everything we have ever fought for on the line. I want an answer to that question."

"Explanations do appear to be lacking in this discussion," Vader shot back as he turned to Admiral Hood.

Admiral Hood let out a dejected sigh and shifted his gaze to the holoprojector.

"Roland, display the halo array," the Admiral ordered.

"Are you sure that's the wisest course of action," questioned a disembodied, male voice.

"Just do it before I change my mind," Admiral Hood ordered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

An image of 7 rings appeared via holographic projection.

"Master Chief, if you would," Hood sighed, knowing that the Spartan would get the point across far better than he could.

The spartan nodded and stepped forward.

"These are the Halo Array, the most powerful weapons of mass destruction ever built, and there is one in your galaxy. Right in the middle of it." Chief said in his deep and gravelly voice.

Everyone was confused as to why these rings were such a threat.

"Alright, I'll bite, what do these rings do and how big are they?" Leia asked skeptically.

The Arbiter answered her question, "They create a fire that consumes all life within its blast radius, leaving nothing but ash and barren ground in its wake. They are 10,000 kilometers long and have a range of 25,000 light-years."

Hood took over from there, "The last time the Halos were fired, all of them at the same time, all life within our galaxy, and quite possibly your galaxy, was wiped out. To make the situation graver, every ring we have found was completely operational and ready for activation."

Leia was completely appalled at the reality that was the Halo Array. If just one of those rings was activated, it would spell complete and utter destruction for whatever area the Ring was in, be it the Core or Wild Space.

"W-Who could build something like this?" Piett breathed in horror.

"A race of very desperate people. The men and women who built this knew exactly what they wrought. However, they saw what they did as a rebirth for others without them or who they were trying to fight, a parasitic race that is contained on all of the rings for research purposes," the Arbiter explained.

"As you can imagine, we are in quite the rush to disable or destroy this last ring. Given what we've heard of your Emperor, we are also interested in destroying it before he finds this Halo ring," Admiral Hood began before declaring, "As such we are inclined to make this offer. We will aid you in this operation of yours as long as it directly aids us in our mission. The moment that campaign stops helping us in our mission to destroy the ring, we are finished. We will leave the alliance and its members to their own devices and go for the ring ourselves."

"Agreed," Vader said immediately after, "I only hope that the Emperor is dead before such an event occurs,"

They then discussed the alliance between Death Squadron and the Rebellion, which wasn't easy in the least. With every passing minute, Admiral Hood found himself feeling more and more his age. The ideological rift between the Alliance and former Imperials was wide. The only things they seemed to agree on were the need to dethrone the Emperor and the need to destroy the Halo ring.

After an hour of going back and forth, Hood stepped in, "This is getting us nowhere. Make a temporary alliance, including a non-aggression pact, and be done with it. You can decide specifics later. Now we need to move to the Yaga Minor shipyards and start our campaign."

"Alright. In short, all we want is a formal agreement to cease hostilities. In this agreement, we are asking that Death Squadron and any other joining imperials answer to Alliance command, as we do with any other joining person or group," Princess Leia declared, "We are also requesting that you split the captured warships between us and your fleet."

There was a tense moment of silence the former imperials considered the offer. Across the table, Admiral Hood resisted the urge to shake his head. He felt that the young woman was reaching too far with her request to keep some of the destroyers. Vader surely wouldn't go for that while he still held the leverage in this discussion.

"Very well," Vader decided, "Transmit the agreement to the Executor. I will see that it is signed upon my return."

Leia nodded in agreement with the thinnest of smiles while Admiral Hood nodded his head ever-so-slightly in approval. After all of the arguing and unbending stubbornness, Vader had agreed to her terms as stated.

"Don't act so smug, Admiral. I am capable of seeing the larger picture," Darth Vader chided.

Admiral Hood hid a startled feeling behind his perfect poker face. He still wasn't used to having someone around him who was capable of "feeling" his emotions.

"Of course," he quickly responded, "Just glad that you could finally agree on something."

And so, it was. The three delegations returned to their respective ships with a fragile truce in place. Next came the relatively easy task of planning their first move. For this task, Admiral Hood, Captain Lasky, and Agent Dare all retreated to the bridge.

"Officers are up on channel 3," Roland reported.

"Put them through," Admiral Hood ordered from the holo table.

He was immediately greeted with two groups. The first group was made up of Admiral Akbar and Princess Leia, while the second was made up of Admiral Piett and a second officer that Admiral Hood did not recognize.

"General Veers, I presume?" Agent Dare began, as she locked eyes with the officer.

"Yes ma'am," Veers confirmed crisply.

"Alright, where's Commander Appo or Vader?" Admiral Hood demanded.

"Appo is technically my subordinate. He only came along for security and to prove that Vader had control of the Stormtrooper corps within the fleet. As for Vader himself, there were other… details… that need attended to," Veers carefully answered.

"What other details?" the Arbiter quizzed.

"He wouldn't say. Vader's been working on another angle since we first engaged the alliance fleet a few weeks ago," Admiral Piett explained.

"Alright, you two will do," Admiral Hood decided.


	4. Dawn of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here is the next chapter. I hope you all love this as much as I loved writing it. Anyways, as before, feel free to comment if there is something you did or didn't like. With all of that, I give you chapter 4.

**(UNSC Infinity: Three Weeks Later)**

"There are five warships currently docked- the _Resolute_ , the _Strikefast_ , the _Tranquility_ , the _Avenger_ , and the _Liberator_ ," Commander Palmer explained to the crowd of Spartans, "On each ship, Alliance troops will secure the engineering deck and the bridge. For them, this is a relatively straightforward operation with one catch..."

"Each ship is held down by those giant clamps," picked up Buck, an ODST turned Spartan in trademark dark gray ODST colored armor.

"Exactly. Each ship is held in place by four of those, with each one offering a direct ring to ship access. On top of that, there are two starboard and two portside tractor beams that due most of the work in regards to holding each ship in place," Commander Palmer confirmed

She stopped as she let the information sink in. In the brief second that she paused, she scanned the helmeted faces in the room. There were five Spartan teams in the room. They were all Spartan IVs, Palmer not having command over the IIs or IIIs, and for once, they were fighting a war on their terms.

She continued with a renewed sense of pride, "The systems holding each ship in place are controlled from command decks above their ships. Each team will secure a command deck and, with A.I. help, begin releasing the ships. It is important that the clamps come up first. Security will pounce on those ships at the first sign of what we're doing, and the Alliance doesn't have the numbers to get locked in an extended shooting match."

The Spartans nodded collectively, their unspoken order was clear. Get the ships out of dock before security swarms the ships.

"What about Blue Team ma'am?" a IV in blue and black armor asked.

Palmer allowed a faint smirk to cross her face. "Blue team's got their own mission and will check in with Hood when they are done. Further orders will be issued to each team once their primary objective is complete, depending on the status of the battle."

The rest of the briefing went into detail about what to expect inside the station. In short, there was little that the Spartans didn't expect or hadn't seen some variation of before. There was the usual round of heavily armored doors, automated cannons, and armed soldiers to keep things interesting.

"Any questions?" Commander Palmer finally asked.

She looked around and saw nothing but poker faces and the occasional, slow shake of the head.

"Alright, grab your gear and head for the hangars. Insertion is in one hour," Commander Palmer concluded.

**(Home One: Same time)**

Luke went over his X-Wing with a fine-toothed comb. It wasn't that he didn't trust the mechanics. It was that he nothing else to keep his mind occupied. The events of the last few weeks, coupled with the brazen attack about to happen have him on edge and his nerves frayed. As Luke considered the meeting onboard the _Infinity_ , he found himself circling back to the near-fatal confrontation with Vader on Bespin.

"This shouldn't be too surprising," he finally muttered to himself.

After all, Darth Vader had made it clear that he sought to take the Emperor's place. Of course, that had been a lie, hadn't it? He was playing on Luke's emotions to try controlling him, again. Then again, this was his father- a legendary war hero and once-powerful Jedi.

"Blast it, Ben! Why didn't you tell me?" Luke snapped.

The exclamation was followed by a metallic _thunk_ as he smacked the side of his X-Wing with his robotic hand. Luke took a calming breath and put aside his feelings. At the same time, he waved away the small handful of crewmen who had heard his outburst. Now was not the time to wrestle with the past. With his thoughts brought back into the present, he joined R2 in checking the S-foils. A few minutes later, a familiar voice broke his focus.

"Hey, Luke," Leia called out.

Luke pocketed his tool and spun around.

He waited until she was closer before asking, "How're you doing?"

"About as well as you, considering what the deck officer told me," she answered with a shrug.

Luke didn't immediately respond as his eyes drifted across her uniform. After taking in the heavy black vest, shin guards, armored gloves, and helmet; they settled on the blaster rifle in her hands.

"So, you're leading one of the teams?" Luke inquired.

"I'm certainly not going to sit on my hands while everyone else fights," Leia declared.

The fire in her eyes made it clear that she had already had this argument with one or more people in the command staff.

"What do you think of Vader's fleet joining the rebellion?" Luke asked.

"Officially, I think this is the opportunity of a lifetime. His fleet could provide some badly needed firepower to the fleet," Leia carefully answered, "Unofficially, I think he is playing us. There is no family. There is no revenge plot. He's found the Emperor's weakness and is making a simple power grab. After the Emperor is finished, so is our truce."

Luke winced at her declaration. There was so much passion and determination that he doubted Leia would believe him if he ever did tell her the truth.

"We'll see about that. As long as the other two factions are involved, I don't think Vader will try anything," Luke offered.

Leia looked at him curiously, "How do you always see the good in situations? Why do you have so much hope in this truce?" she asked.

Luke thought for a moment before replying. "I'm all for destroying the Empire but what would happen after we beat them? There would always be a remnant that would remain loyal to the ideals of the Empire and the Emperor. What would we do about them? With this truce standing, it shows that we can have peace with the Imperials. We can build trust with this truce, trust that can allow us to have a seamless transition of power to a democratic Senate."

Leia nodded, "If only things were so simple."

"All crew, general quarters… All crew, general quarters," boomed a voice over the intercom.

Luke let out an annoyed sigh at the interruption.

"Alright, I'll see you on the other side," he announced.

Unsure of what to say, she offered, "May the Force be with you."

His response went unheard as she took off across the chaotic bay. Her destination was the next hanger over. There, alliance soldiers were already filling the docked U-Wing dropships. As she found her ship, she mentally rehearsed the plan. It was an insane one, to say the least. Their U-Wings would link up with UNSC dropships, Lambda-Class shuttles, and a flight of Clone Wars-era gunships. X-Wings and Broadswords would escort the entire group past the Imperial guns and to the storage docks.

This would all happen while the main fleet moved to engage the rest of the station's defenses. The goal was to take the station intact. Whether that was possible or not was still a source of considerable debate among the Alliance commanders. She shook that debate from her head as she boarded her designated craft. Behind her followed four others, Chewbacca, a Rodian and two humans. A Twi'lek and Bothan followed a few seconds later. All of them were in zero-G combat suits like Leia. More Alliance troops filled the ship. By the time the intercom announced their breakout from hyperspace, she was sharing a deployment bay with twelve Alliance troops.

The engines screamed as they came to life. The noise was first dampened by Leia's helmet and then the sidewalls of the deployment bay as both doors hissed shut.

"Commander, this is Admiral Ackbar. Vader was right about them waiting for us. Shields and weapons are active," announced a voice Leia's helmet.

"We knew of that possibility. Nothing has changed," Leia declared.

She shook her head. Admiral Ackbar was good but far too cautious for her tastes.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

The first thing that Spartan Locke saw when he exited the dropship was red blaster bolts and white armor of Stormtroopers coming their way. His shields flared as bolt after bolt crashed into his armor. Over the chaos, he could hear the loud warble of another dropship entering the hanger.

"Get to the wall," barked a voice in his helmet.

With shields rapidly draining and little cover around them, Fireteam Osiris didn't have to be told twice. He motioned the rest of his team to the right as he found another target. His battle rifle bucked as trooper after trooper dropped. He hit the wall and mentally counted off each person as they stacked up behind the crates and bulkhead.

"We're clear," he reported.

By this time the Pelican that had delivered them was replaced with two LAAT gunships, one in the hanger, and one waiting just outside the atmospheric barrier. The pre-mission briefing told him all he needed to know about the ship. It was old but effective. This was proven when it swooped in with turrets blazing. The scream of its twin blasters was soon drowned out by the sound of exploding missiles. Fire consumed the back wall and white armored troopers were thrown in every direction.

As the craft fell silent, Locke waved his team forward. The clock was ticking and they still had two decks to fight through. In the dense smoke, Locke tallied over a dozen bodies. Chatter over the team channel told him there was at least a company killed in the barrage from the old LAAT.

From what he read in the files that Roland had given all UNSC personnel with clearance, the LAAT and its variants were used in the Clone Wars and a short time after before it was retired in favor of the Lambda-class shuttle and its variants.

It seemed that not only did Vader seem to be reverting to the old proven vehicles, he was also developing a new suit of armor for his 501st legion. If this was to bear fruit or not had yet to be seen, but Locke heard that they might be taking the old clone trooper armor phases and combining them into a new suit that would apparently outstrip the current Stormtrooper armor. Unfortunately, the armor was still in development, with Commander Appo having the only finished suit.

He pushed those thoughts from his head, as he led his team through the corridors. For the Spartan team, the push to the command deck was more tedious than it was dangerous. The defenders had clearly expected their arrival and set up defenses at every choke point. However, they were poorly manned and fell back at the smallest provocation. Something wasn't right.

The small arms fire was deafening. Locke pulled the pin on a grenade as he ducked behind the backside of a durasteel barrier. He counted to three and tossed it over the top.

_BANG!_

He looked over the top to see a black scorch mark where there had been a couple of Stormtroopers. Looking through his sites, he saw two troopers attempting to cover the rest of the squad's retreat. He fired three shots at one, but the trooper's partner ducked around the corner before he could adjust his aim. The rest of the team vaulted the series of barriers in an attempt to keep up the momentum. By this point, they were closing in on lift for the command deck.

"Wait," he commanded.

His order was lost in the chaos. With a muttered curse, the Spartan leader took off after his team.

"Fireteam Osiris, fall back!" he bellowed again.

The other Spartans froze mid-step before retreating back to their squad leader. If he was ordering them to wait, then something was clearly up.

"What is it?" Vale demanded.

"The Imperials are up to something," Locke hastily explained, "These firefights are ending way to quick."

"We're Spartans, I'd be worried if these fights weren't ending quickly," Buck countered.

"Where are the auto-turrets? Where is the endless supply of white armored fanatics we heard about in the briefing? Hell, where are the heavy blast doors? Tanaka's carrying enough explosives to cripple the _Infinity_ , yet she's had to use none of them," Locked argued.

"You think there's a trap?" Vale quizzed.

Locke nodded.

"So, what do we do?" Tanaka quizzed, "We're on a timeline and right outside the doors of the lift to the bridge."

"First is spring the trap. Buck, Tanaka. Breach the doors. Vale, you and I will clear the room. I have a feeling we will need those explosives intact very soon."

His fire team nodded and got to work. Unlike the other doors they breached, the doors to the room containing the lift were sealed tight. Tanaka led the way to the doors with a couple charges in hand. Her hands were a blur of motion as she set the charges against the door and armed them. Once satisfied that everything was set, Tanaka and Buck fell back into formation with the rest of the team.

Tanaka pulled out the detonator and looked at Locke expectantly. He nodded and the doors flew inward with a flash of white. The sheet of durasteel was followed in by one of Vale's frag grenades. The blast was still ringing in the air as Osiris stormed in. They were greeted with a hail of blaster bolts, making their shields flare in response. The Spartan IVs dove for the cover of the lift control board, trying to keep their shields from failing.

The defenders were instantly on them. Vibroblades mixed with blasters as they rushed the Spartans. As they approached the strangely armored warriors. However, they soon realized that they were outmatched when the first few troopers went down in a hail of bullets. Armor cracked and faceplates shattered as the few survivors vaulted the control station, trying in vain to stop the elite soldiers from gaining control of the station and the ship. Within seconds the fight was over. Scattered across the room were the bodies of the dozen defenders that had been killed.

The room fell into an eerie silence as the Fireteam prepared to deal with the next obstacle. Suddenly a blaster shot screamed out. The bolt slammed into Buck's head. His shield absorbed the assault and everyone spun around to the source. There, in the center of everyone's sites was a Stormtrooper… a broken, dying Stormtrooper. On his shoulder was an orange pauldron painted red with blood. That same blood poured out from a shattered faceplate. His leg was obviously broken, and he could barely find the strength to hold his blaster, let alone pull the trigger again.

"Drop it," Locke ordered.

"Or what? I'm already dying," the trooper shot back with a blood-filled cough.

That's when they heard it. The high pitched whine cut through the room. The blaster had only been to get their attention. It was one last stroke of ego before the trooper completed his final act.

"Grenade!" Vale yelled.

The fire team threw themselves against the far wall.

_BOOM!_

There was a difference between being told about something and experiencing it firsthand. Locke was reminded of this as the thermal detonator shattered his shields. The briefings had told him about the thermal detonator's concussive blast so he knew the about the blistering heat and had memorized the kill radius for that weapon.

However, all of that information paled in comparison to actually experiencing the blast. Alarms screamed in his ringing ears as fire seared his skin. The flash of light instantly polarized his helmet, but it was not enough. The light blinded his eyes, even with the tinted visor. It was an ugly experience unlike any he had felt before. He felt tears in his eyes, his body responding to the burning sensation that his eyes and body were feeling. He blinked rapidly, trying to make his eyesight return. Yet it stubbornly refused to do so. Responding to years of training, Locke staggered. Blinded or not, he needed to move.

However, it was for nothing. As his vision cleared, he was greeted with nothing more than a scorched room. The trooper responsible, well… he was reduced to scattered pieces of ash and charred bone the size of a Magnum shell. The silver walls had been painted with black streaks, and pieces of the control board were scattered all across the room.

"Is everyone ok?" He called.

The Spartan's first priority was his team.

"I'm ok," Vale answered between coughs.

"I'm good," Tanaka declared.

"All good, but that was one hell of a grenade," Buck spoke up.

Locke nodded. There was no denying Buck's statement. That explosion was much more powerful than the grenades the team was used to dealing with. As everyone collected themselves, Tanaka looked over the control board. It was clearly destroyed. That meant they got to do things the hard way.

"I'm glad we brought jump packs because that's the only way we're going up," she announced.

Nods and muttered agreements rippled through the team as they waited for their shields to recharge. Locke noted with some worry that his were abnormally slow to come up.

"Be careful. Our shields took a lot of abuse in that blast," he warned as he and Tanaka pried open the door to the lift.

"No kidding," Buck agreed as he led the way into the damaged lift, "My shields just now came back up."

The team made short work of the thin, metal ceiling and were soon standing up on top of the lift. Jump packs fired and they were soon on the Command deck. The Command deck was a room filled by rows of control consoles and black screens. The tension was thick as the Spartans spread out. Seconds stretched into minutes as the team verified what they already knew. The room was empty.

"What the hell is going on?" Buck demanded.

Locke shrugged as he approached the command console. He tapped a few keys and was rewarded with the welcome sight of Roland.

"Roland, what exactly is going on?" Locke demanded, "We hit solid resistance in one place, and that seems to have been for nothing."

"Hold on. I'm…" Roland frowned as he trailed off.

Locke was opened his mouth just in time for Roland's eyes to turn into saucers.

"I can bring the system online but it's going to take time we don't have. Along the right is a large panel. Open the door and start turning the levers," Roland commanded, "That's the manual release for the boarding clamps. This entire section is flooding with troopers as we speak."

Vale adjusted her stride mid-step and ran for the panel. A couple of seconds later, Roland's figure was joined by that of another figure. This figure was a blue-skinned humanoid with piercing red eyes and dressed in a bleach white uniform with decorative golden fabric on the shoulders, signifying the alien as a high-ranking officer.

"Gentlemen…" the being started with a refined purr, "I must say the appearance of a fleet this big was unexpected. However, this is still my battlefield. The pieces are in place and I would like to personally welcome you to the hell of my creation."

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Leia's blood ran cold as she watched the broadcast. Of all of the Admirals to appear, it had to be Grand Admiral Thrawn.

" _Of course it's Thrawn, only the most skilled commanders would be satisfactory for Vader,"_ whispered a voice in her head.

The hologram winked out of existence. Leia turned shook the paranoid thoughts from her head and turned to her work. Starting this thing wasn't exactly like starting a fighter. There were many things that had to happen in a very specific order all across the bridge. With only five people on a bridge built for five times that number, there was a lot of controlled chaos as people sprinted from station to station.

"Commander, twelve star destroyers just entered the system on top of us!" gasped one of the commandos as he pointed out the viewport.

Leia cursed as she picked her way around the dead Stormtroopers and flipped two switches on the navigation console. After that, she opened the team channel.

"Bridge to engineering. How long until the reactor is spun up?" She demanded.

"Thirty seconds and you'll be able to pull off the dock under your own power. Ninety and we can-"

The Alliance soldier was cut off by the sound of explosions. The deck shuddered as muffled blasts rumbled like thunder. Leia grabbed the bulkhead to steady herself.

"What happened?" she demanded to no one in particular.

"That- That was the hyperdrive," answered a voice over the comm between violent coughs, "They must have rigged it with explosives prior to our takeover."

 _"Remember, the first, and most important, priority is keeping the hyperdrive stable. If that goes critical…"_ echoed a voice in her memory.

"Lock down the hyperdrive and start pumping in the coolant. With this little reactor output, we should be fine. However, I don't want to take any chances," she ordered.

"Yes ma'am", answered three different people at once.

As the channel went dead, the bridge sprang into action.

**(UNSC Infinity: Ops Center)**

Commander Palmer mentally dissected the scene as she listened to the reports coming in. This "Grand Admiral", as Piett had labeled him, had just put the fleet in an interesting position. By waiting until all of the boarding troops were on board and committed to the fight, he had ensured that the fleet couldn't remove its gloves and blow the entire Imperial system to hell. However, he couldn't exactly expel them from the system either. Neither side now held the capability to strike a decisive blow unless they played their cards just right. With stable supply lines, the Admiral could continue the battle almost indefinitely this way.

That's where she came in. Along with the rest of the infantry commanders, they had to find a way to take the station before Thrawn could add even more troops to the battle. However, first, she had to keep her Spartan teams from being completely overwhelmed.

"Commander, we have a second problem. Multiple Imperial craft are breaking for the Venators. It looks like they want their ships back intact," the A.I. announced.

"And we have a solution," the Commander declared, "Tell Commander Appo and General Graven that they aren't getting those Spartans. They'll have to make do with Marines and Sword infantry. Tell all teams to fall back to the ships."

"So, they're just gonna jump through the front viewports?" Roland asked skeptically.

"They've got zero-g suits, jump packs and magnetic boots. Not to mention, those ships are just now starting to move. They'll make it," Commander Palmer argued.

"That doesn't fix the attrition problem," he pointed out.

"You let me deal with that problem," Palmer ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

With that, Roland disappeared. As crazy as he thought this was, it was far less insane than some plans he had seen work.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

"You know this whole plan is nuts, right?" yelled an Alliance soldier between blaster shots.

His partner simply grunted as he slapped the pressure-release on his own repeating blaster. The weapon hissed as superheated steam gushed out.

"Someone's gotta do the dirty work," added in the squad leader as he tossed a grenade down the passage.

There was an ear-splitting explosion.

"Let's go! Let's go!" yelled the captain in charge.

The soldiers sprinted out of cover. Shots were traded across a distance of mere feet, and bodies began to drop instantly. The squad leader instantly went down with two holes in his chest. The Stormtrooper responsible was quickly shot down by another trooper, who was then cut open by the vibroblade of a waiting Stormtrooper. Smoke choked the hallway as the Alliance troops fought their way over and around the barricades. Unlike the forces encountered by the Spartan IVs, these troopers had explicit orders to stand their ground at all costs, and it showed.

After ten minutes of fighting, they had been able to force the Stormtroopers back to a more manageable distance. However, the Captain could see more reinforcements rushing in. He muttered a curse and continued firing. One trooper went down followed by his partner and one on the other side. Another grenade sent shrapnel and limbs flying.

"This is Eagle 1 to base. We're at our breaking point. Where's that Spartan team at?" he demanded over the command channel.

"This is base to Eagle 1. They've been re-tasked," Roland answered clinically.

"Retasked!? What the hell do you mean retasked? This entire plan counted on them," the Captain exclaimed.

"No, you counted on them," Roland shot back, "We said reinforcements would come back you up, and that there was a good chance that those reinforcements would involve as Spartan team. Your reinforcements are about five minutes out. Standby."

The line went dead, leaving the soldiers to try to stay alive until reinforcements arrived.

"We're on our own for now!" the Captain announced, "Let's teach the Imps what it means to mess with the Rebellion!"

And so, they fought. Seconds stretched into eternity as superheated light flooded the space. For the next five minutes, there was nothing to be heard but the sound of blaster fire and grenade blasts. With each volley, men and women dropped. One both sides, they died three and four at a time. Yet, neither side would break.

The Captain shielded his face as an explosion showered him in debris. Looking up, he saw what was left of the man next to him. His body was mangled and his blaster had been thrown down the passage by the shockwave. The Captain flushed the sight from his head as he re-leveled his blaster. He shot down two white armored Stormtroopers as the blast doors hissed open. More troops poured in. However, these ones were different. They stood about two inches above everyone else and had black suits. Most carried compact blaster rifles and blaster pistols. However, a few carried heavy repeating blasters. The captain immediately recognized them as the Tarkin Project's most successful developments.

"Captain, they've got Death Troopers!" shouted a rebel soldier over the comm.

"Keep firing!" he barked, "They'll die all the same."

The order wasn't much, but it's all the Captain could order. They couldn't advance due to a lack of manpower, and they couldn't retreat without compromising the entire right flank of the incursion. The blaster fire gained a new intensity as the heavy blasters came alive. In the face of this wall, nearly all rebel blaster fire came to a stop. It didn't happen all at once. It happened, slowly as trooper after trooper began dropping at a steady rate. The survivors had no choice but to duck behind cover or risk a similar fate.

Then through the deafening blaster fire, the Captain heard the faintest of metallic pings. His eyes widened as he saw the grenade bounce off the wall. The captain covered his face as he dove away. He never heard the blast. His vision turned white and the shockwave instantly crushed him against the bulkhead. His blaster melted in his hands, while his body was reduced to atoms. That same superheated shockwave cut through armor and skin as it tore an irreparable hole in the Rebel line.

The Imperials rushed the hole. Lead by the Death Troopers, a tidal wave of Imperial soldiers vaulted over their barricades with blasters ablaze. In the confusion, the rebel line shattered. With most of the officers dead and no reinforcements, the rebels had no direction and began to fall back two and three at a time. Whether or not these men qualified as deserters would be a question abandoned to history.

For at that moment, the ground began to shake. The blast door at the back of the line hissed open. Shots of green plasma cut through the room. Both the Imperials and rebels skipped a beat as the two Mgalekgolo burst into the passageway. Stormtroopers not immediately blown up or crushed beyond recognition by the duo were shot down by the flood of Sangheili and Unggoy that followed in after them.

"Why do we have to go first?" one of the Grunts complained as he shot one of the remaining Stormtroopers.

"Keep moving," a Sangheili in red armor commanded the smaller Unggoy before turning to the remaining rebels, "Come. This is not a place to die."

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Commander Appo listened eagerly to the report coming through the transmitter. The voice was the deep bass tone of a Sangheili officer. Even through the distorted audio, his voice was a commanding one.

"...We were able to relieve the pressure on rebel lines along the cross passage. Advances are being made along passages Alpha-1 and Alpha-2. However, the Imperials are starting to solidify their lines. Further advancement will be a difficult endeavor. We do not have the Mgalekgolo to continue using them as we have. The Stormtroopers are growing wise to their weaknesses," the red armored alien explained.

Commander Appo nodded as he examined the map at his waist. With General Veers pushing out in the opposite direction that gave them seven square miles of secured territory. It wasn't as much as Appo wanted, but it was a foothold.

"The fleet has begun running supply sorties into the secured bays. However, the arrival of Thrawn's fleet is making that endeavor dangerous at best," General Veers added, "Supplies will be slow to reach the front."

"What about the Venators?" Appo quizzed.

"The ships are attempting to pull off under their own power," Commander Palmer explained, "We are implementing a plan to get them some cover."

Commander Appo nodded. Now he had all of the pieces. However, before he could speak, General Veers turned to him.

"Commander, link with the Swords. Then start your push for central control. I'll link with the UNSC forces and continue my push counter-orbit," General Veers ordered.

He continued to lay out a broad plan for how they should best proceed with the mission. In short, rebel and Sangheili spec ops teams would move ahead of the main force and secure vital junctions and other areas, and hold out until the main force linked with them soon after. It was risky, but when coupled with two aggressive advances, it should keep them from bogging down.

One of the teams mentioned was the Blue Team. They had been dropped into the station during the start of the battle. While no one outside of Admiral Hood and Captain Lasky knew of the team's exact orders, comm intercepts suggested that they were causing some serious hell within the station. It was because of this knowledge that Commander Appo readily nodded in agreement.

"Yes, sir. The men have regrouped. We'll move out immediately," he answered crisply.

The meeting came to a rapid end without any other major developments. This left him alone with an empty, repurposed room and his racing thoughts. Emotions of all variety swelled up in the veteran commander. He had engaged in this kind of battle once before. It was long ago in the Clone Wars. However, its horrific lessons had been burned in his head, along with the truths unknowingly dug up in the process.

_"Tup! No!" yelled out a clone._

_"He just snapped… shot the Jedi dead on the spot," added another, quieter clone voice._

The Commander shook his head free of the memories. He violently crushed the associated emotions and snatched up his blaster. That war was over. Now, he had to focus on winning this one.

**(ISD Executor)**

Admiral Piett listened with growing frustration as the reports came in. Up to this point, the fleet had been keeping its distance so as to not destroy the station. However, with the arrival of Thrawn's fleet, that wasn't an option. The extra TIE fighters and bombers were having a field day with their supply craft, while enemy star destroyers had engulfed the ships they were trying to steal.

He turned to the board and mapped out his next move. The Arbiter and Hood had discussed a plan for fixing any overwhelming complications they could run into. The backup plan had Death Squadron and a portion of the UNSC fleet, mainly frigates and cruisers, jumping in the system to flank any reinforcements that dropped in on the Rebel fleet and the troop transports. Death squadron would punch a hole in the fleet, spearheaded by the Executor herself, allowing the UNSC fleet to flood the hole while engaging the defenseless backside of the enemy fleet, either damaging the engines or outright destroying the ships.

This change in the Imperial lines would force the joint fleet to directly engage in naval combat with the defenders, a less than optimal move. There was still one operational defense station, as well as the light, medium, and heavy guns that dotted the station itself. Added to this, was the concentrated fire from the fleet and enough fighters to blot out the sun.

The Admiral let out a sigh. There was no use delaying the inevitable. He tapped two keys on the holotable and was rewarded with an image of the Arbiter.

"We are beginning our redeployment," He began without preamble.

"Our ships simply await your movement, Fleetmaster," the Arbiter confirmed.

"And what of Admiral Hood's fleet?" Piett followed up.

"They are already moving," he confirmed.

"Good."

With that, the Arbiter disappeared. Piett turned away from the board and began issuing orders.

"All ahead, full power. Bring us ninety degrees to port," Admiral Piett barked before turning to the comm station, "Tell the rest of the squadron to form up."

This was followed by a string of further orders, as Piett ironed out the wrinkles in their plan. Underneath his collected exterior, Piett was nervous. He was spreading his ships dangerously thin in this engagement. It would give them the best deployment pattern. However, it required the fleet to step into the station's pre-sighted kill zone. Here the fire from the Imperial station and supporting craft would be most intense. Because of this, one mistake could allow an admiral of Thrawn's caliber could begin isolating various warships and picking them off.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Luke jerked the control yoke back. In front of him, an Imperial shuttle exploded into several pieces. His eyes darted across the viewport as he ducked and weaved between blaster bolts. He found another shuttle on the final approach for Resolute's blasted open main hanger. Luke switched weapons. The chance was too good to pass up. His targeting computer chimed right as the Imperial craft landed on the Imperial occupied hanger. He squeezed the trigger. A pair of purple orbs shot out of his craft. Seconds later the shuttle exploded into a ball of fire as the two proton torpedoes slammed into its engines. Luke thumbed the weapon selector back to his primary wing-tip cannons and circled around. He considered strafing the deck for good measure. However, he had a different mission.

"Rogue Squadron, form up on me. We've got a group of frigates moving in to cover the Venators' retreat. We're to link with Blue and Black squadrons. All three squadrons are to help keep the TIEs off them," Luke hastily explained.

"Gotcha boss," Wedge called over the comm, "Making our way over to you,"

Luke was about to reply when the words died in his throat. In front of him were two entire squadrons of TIE defenders. Luke jerked up on his stick to the side, making his fighter turn around and straighten out. He kicked his engines up to full acceleration and tried to make it to Blue and Black squadrons before he was torn to shreds.

However, it was no good. The TIE defenders had an overwhelming speed advantage on his used and battle fatigued X-Wing. Within seconds streaks of green and black were whipping past his viewport. Each moment was a struggle as he fought the blaster bolts for control of his fighter. Luke rolled left and right before pulling the yoke back and right. He noted the response from the X-Wing was sluggish as he pulled out of the swarm.

"Luke are you alright?" demanded Vader over the comm channel.

"A little cooked but alright," Luke answered as he scanned his various sensors and gages.

"A little cooked" was putting it mildly. Luke silenced two alarms as he assessed the damage. His upper left engine had taken a serious beating. It was pulsating in power output and messing with the steering. His long-range sensor suite was reduced to a smoldering hole, and his right stabilizer was loose.

"R2, the right stabilizer is loose, try to lock it down," Luke told the old astromech, receiving an affirmative beep in response.

"Commander Skywalker, I recommend turning back to the Home One. I think your ship took more damage than you realize," cut in a third voice.

"Negative. We're coming up on the frigates," Luke answered back before switching frequencies, "Rogue squadron, form up in attack position. We're engaging the lead pack of bombers."

As he made his order, his screen filled with enemy squadrons. In his ears, he heard the chatter of the other squadrons selecting targets and falling into position. He pushed his throttle back up to full power and charged into the attacking TIE fighters. His target was right behind two flights of standard TIE fighters. They were the lead bombers in this attack. If they got through, there was no telling how much damage they could do to the lightly armored frigates.

"This is the _UNSC Crimson_. We're approaching the drop point," announced a voice over the channel.

"Copy _Crimson_. Black, Blue, and Rogue squadrons are coming up for escort." Blue leader replied before the line went dead.

Luke was just about to swing around to join them when he felt, more than heard, his fighter get hit. R2 squealed in fright, trying desperately to make sure his pilot knew the danger. But it was for naught. The fighter shook violently under the abuse. Luke dumped all power into his shields as he tried to get out of the TIE's gun sights. He rolled left and cut the engines. The fighter streaked past and right into Luke's own sights. He squeezed the trigger and watched as his lasers cut apart the enemy fighter.

However, his wingman had gone unseen. Power came back to Luke's engines just in time for the second TIE to reveal itself. A stream of green lasers sliced through his battered left side. The damaged engine was soon engulfed in flames. Another burst of fire made short work of the wingtip cannons on his right side and further damaged the engines. Luke pulled up as a second explosion rocked his ship. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Vader's ship go streaking through the TIE's debris field.

Alarms screamed and this time there was no silencing them. Luke read the display with increasing worry.

_Cannon 1: Offline_

_Cannon 2: Offline_

_Cannon 3: damaged_

_Cannon 4: Operational_

_Port Stabilizer: Critical_

_Starboard Stabilizer: Damaged_

_Engine 1: Offline_

_Engine 2: A lower line fuel leak_

_Engine 3: Heat levels critical_

_Engine 4: Operational_

R2's panicked whistles summarized what Luke already knew. This fight was over for him. All he could do was limp back to the nearest friendly ship and hope that he wouldn't get blown to bits by an overzealous pilot hoping to get another kill. Luke gave R2 a string of orders to stop the bleeding as he scanned the surrounding space. That's when he saw it. The UNSC _Hellbred_ stood out against the black ink of space like a beacon. Not wasting any time, Luke hastily opened the main channel to the ship.

"This is Rogue 1 to _Hellbred_ , requesting permission for an emergency landing. My fighter's been critically damaged," he requested, "I'm transmitting my ship's last status readout."

As much as he tried to hide it, there was no missing the panic in Luke's voice. The officer on the other end must have seen the report as he was equally urgent in his reply.

"Proceed to hanger 1 for an immediate landing. Emergency crews are standing by," he quickly ordered.

There was a chirp from his navigation screen. He tapped a button and was rewarded with a waypoint marker for the hanger in question.

"Copy that. Rogue 1, inbound," Luke acknowledged before switching his attention to R2, "Widen out the sensors as far as you can. We can't be ambushed like that again."

R2 gave an affirmative, even if a tad nervous, whistle in response. The flight back rapidly increased in difficulty as the ship began falling apart. R2 and Luke both did the best they could, but this was still an active warzone. Lasers of all kinds streaked past his X-Wing. Fighters constantly buzzed him, and more than one TIE fighter had to be run off by its friendly counterpart.

Luke gritted his teeth as he was forced to silence one alarm after another. His fighter bobbled as both stabilizers threatened to finish coming apart. His shields finished giving out under the abuse of one ship's heavy turbolasers. However, it was going to be ok. His ship was in one piece, he was conscious, and he had some control over his fighter. He had seen people survive worse… at least that's what he told himself as he came in for the final approach.

"R2. That output valve is sticking again. I need less power," Luke called out.

"Rogue 1, you're coming in extremely hot. I recommend you cut a lot of speed," cut in a worried flight control officer.

"Working on it," Luke muttered through gritted teeth.

The fighter shuttered as R2 and Luke both fought to slow the fighter.

"Commander Skywalker-"

Luke punched the mute button and went to work. His eyes darted between the viewport and the various switches around him. He adjusted his course before adjusting two more knobs. He pressed two buttons and pulled back on the throttle lever. It didn't work. He was streaking through the vacuum of space with no way to slow himself down. Luke suggested completely killing the engines. R2 quickly pointed out that with no source of resistance, the fighter would simply continue to accelerate. Panic began to set in as the open hanger flooded his viewport. There was one last option. Either it would kill them, or do the trick.

"R2, deactivate the blow out safeties," Luke ordered.

The X-Wing ran on highly flammable fuel. As a result, the fuel system had a high-pressure system to blow fuel out of a certain line should a fire start. The idea was to deprive any fire of fuel and thus extinguish it. That system was the only reason his fighter hadn't been destroyed when the left engine went down. So, by sealing the line, the air would have nowhere to go. All of the fuel would be slammed up against the stuck valve, and he should be able to reverse the thrusters, or the fuel/air mix would punch through the weakened metal and finish destroying his engines.

R2 whistled a confirmation two seconds later when it was done. Luke nodded and flipped two switches. The lines sealed, and he punched the blowout button. There was a small pop followed by an ear-splitting _crack_. The engines changed pitch and his body slammed against his straps. He looked at the readout through dazed eyes.

The thrusters had finally reversed. His speed was dropping 40 and 50 kilometers per second. Now all he had to do was steer the bucking fighter. With most of his sensors damaged, Luke reached out in the force. He felt the ship, and then the deckhands. Their elevated worry marked their exact positions. Luke felt the subtle movements of his own fighter. With eyes only half-open, he adjusted accordingly. The ship hit the deck and everything went black.


	5. Old Enemies and New Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! It's been entirely too long, but I am finally back. This time, I come bearing 2 chapters for the price of 1. This chapter is the last crosspost from FFN (forgot to post it earlier), while the second one is drafted and in the final stages of editing. It should be going up here in a few hours or tomorrow sometime. Anyways, I know ya'll don't come here for my meta ramblings. lol. So, without further ado, I give you chapter 5...

**(Edge of Chiss space: 20 years ago)**

Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo- later known as Thrawn- watched as the refitted Corellian bulk freighter raced out of the system. It was spitting fire from the half dozen gashes Mitth'raw'nuruodo had put in it. The lasers flying from its last remaining quad cannon weren't much more than an annoyance as Thrawn ran down his prey.

"Focus fire on the energy source toward the aft of the ship," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," replied the Lieutenant in charge of the fire control center.

A thin, predatory grin formed as a particularly violent explosion racked the freighter. Much to Thrawn's annoyance, the cannon operators had been off in their aim by a couple of degrees. This was made clear by the fact that the ship was still moving when it shouldn't be.

"Sir, the ship is preparing to jump to hyperspace," reported his second-in-command

"Follow him," Thrawn ordered, knowing that that was easier said than done.

"Sir?" asked the officer.

By this point, it was more of a confirmation than a surprise. Like the rest of the crew, the officer had long ago accepted the captain's morally questionable tactics.

"You heard me," Thrawn answered coolly, "This is the last time we deal with these barbarians."

"Yes sir," he replied before relaying the proper orders for the jump.

Within seconds of their prey, they had made the jump to hyperspace. A week later, it was evident that they had not made the jump correctly. The ship had come out a couple of parsecs away, not that it mattered. The freighter's failing navigation system had been unable to warn them of a small planet in their path. However, Thrawn and the rest of the crew had quickly forgotten the pirates in favor of the massive ring staring them down.

"What is that?" asked the Executive Officer as his mouth hung partially open.

No one answered as the rest of the bridge stared in awe. Whatever it was was larger than most planets. The outside face was silver with evenly spaced blue orbs. From what Thrawn could tell, the interior face was made up of a semi-natural atmosphere and environment.

"Get me environmental scans and prepare a landing team. I will lead it personally," Thrawn finally ordered as he fought to contain his awe.

The next few hours were spent pouring over environmental scans as Thrawn determined where the teams would land. He had about a hundred men at his disposal and intended to use every one of them.

"We'll make landfall here and here," he stated as he pointed to a stone temple dominating the surrounding lake and a massive grey tower seven miles to the northwest. He followed this up with further orders detailing the equipment that they were to bring.

"Yes, sir, but shouldn't we pull back and report the find to command?" asked the Executive Officer.

Captain Thrawn pursed his lips.

"We will do so when we have something to report," he answered coolly.

Have something to report they would. The four days spent exploring the tunnels and surrounding area. In this time, they were able to determine that the ring was, in fact, a massive weapon of some sort. However, the language barrier ensured that the exact scope and nature of the weapon remained obscure. It was in the process of trying to answer this question that things went to hell.

"This is Temple 1. We've got unknown contacts… Argh!... Definitely hostile… Blast it!... They-" the commander's voice faded into blaster fire as he focused on the unknown enemy.

"Commander, report. What's going on?" Thrawn pressed, "They what?"

The only response was the crackle of an open comm channel.

"Commander?" Thrawn demanded as he fought to keep the fear out of his voice.

Orbital scans had indicated that there was no conscious life on this ring. Something had gone horribly wrong. Thrawn was about to try again when a slithering noise echoed through the control room. Everyone, including Thrawn, visibly paled. That noise was not natural, nor was it far away.

"First squad and second squad," Thrawn ordered as he pointed to the men in question, "You're with me, we're going back to Temple 1's position. Captain get that info on a datapad and get some landing ships down here. It appears that the nature of this mission has changed yet again."

"Yes, sir," the captain acknowledged.

Thrawn didn't wait for an answer as he immediately ran for the door. His men were good, and the captain had nerves of steel. He will accomplish his orders or die trying. What happened over the next twenty-four hours was a nightmare that would always haunt the young ship captain.

**(UNSC Infinity: Present Time)**

Admiral Hood was looking out the main viewport of the Infinity's bridge, watching as fighters and shuttles picked up scrapped and disabled fighters and debris from destroyed ships. Admiral Thrawn's face danced in his head. The glowing red eyes and the larger than normal forehead were the key features that gave him pause. Beyond that and the blue skin, he looked human, from his stance to his facial structure. After giving even the Sangheili ships trouble, Admiral Thrawn managed to escape with three Star Destroyers. The rest were either disabled and in the process of being cleared or in pieces. At least the Rebels and Vader had material to use to repair their ships.

He shook his head, focusing on the fleet around the planetary station. The rest of the allied fleet had arrived after Piett had reported Thrawn's withdrawal. They had to be careful from this point on, seeing as the Emperor would be aware of their victory in a matter of days. At that point, a retaliatory force would be sent. If this Grand Admiral Thrawn was to command it, Admiral Hood was not convinced they could hold the station. The only advantage that the UNSC and Swords of Sanghelios had was their total fleet number was hidden from the Grand Admiral, and thus the Emperor.

The hardest part of taking the station was over. Now that the entire force of Vader's soldiers, the UNSC, Swords of Sanghelios, and the Rebel Alliance able to turn their attention to the station, Imperial resistance was rapidly crumbling.

Hood sighed as he turned to the holo table. It was presently flooded with reports on the station and the fleet. Thankfully, the Grand Admiral had targeted the cruisers, Rebel ships, and Death Squadron, leaving the frigates to harass the more massive star destroyers and unload troops onto the now captured Venators and the station itself. That focus, however, had come at a cost. Out of the 30+ ships the Rebels came with, nine were destroyed, and the rest were damaged to varying degrees. Vader had also nearly lost one of his star destroyers, the Stormhawk, in a desperate final attack Thrawn had used to break free and escape.

The blast doors hissed opened to deposit Agent Dare. Admiral Hood pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up at her.

"Well, how is he?" he began.

"Commander Skywalker is one lucky son of a bitch. He's got a concussion and some bruises, but that's it. After examining the flight recorder, everyone has decided that Luke shouldn't be alive," Agent Dare explained before providing the technical details.

Admiral Hood nodded. The kid was lucky, alright. He had hit the deck way too fast and slammed into the back wall with enough force to alter the Hellbred's course. Though, this luck seemed to come with a reckless streak, not unlike the one his father seemed to possess.

"Alright, let's get his fighter collected for examination. This battle should be over soon," Admiral Hood ordered.

"That's already been started," the agent declared as she passed over a datapad, "Admiral Piett sent over all of the information they have on Grand Admiral Thrawn."

Admiral Hood accepted the pad and began skimming through the information.

As he read, Agent Dare gave him the highlights, "He's something of an enigma for Naval Command, and holds a near god-like status among the navy's enlisted personnel. Exact details are spotty, but he just appeared in the Imperial Naval Academy several years ago. He rocketed up through the ranks until he hit commander. There, his career momentarily stalled as the xenophobic officer corps refused to give him a command of his own. After the Emperor personally intervened, he got his command and continued to rise through the ranks mostly on merit alone. From that point on, his exploits are well documented. They culminated with his ascendance to the rank of Grand Admiral with command over the entire Seventh Expeditionary Fleet."

"His list of failed operations is quite short," Admiral Hood observed.

"And he always cleans up his own mess," she added, "I would expect him to be back shortly with a better plan and way more ships."

"Then this base won't be as permanent as Vader had hoped," Hood sighed, "Search through the classified files we obtained from both Death Squadron and the Rebels. Find another base of operations for us specifically. I'll deal with Vader and Alliance Command regarding repairs and moving to another base of operations,"

Dare nodded and left the bridge, the door swishing shut behind her.

**(ISD Executor)**

Darth Vader took a deep breath as he reached out further in the force. In response, icy cold tentacles reached for his mind. His eyes fluttered open ever so slightly as he pushed them away. Darkness returned, and he called out for another time.

"Obi-Wan… We must talk. There is much to discuss," he muttered.

While barely audible in the physical world, his words rang out through the force. He continued to reach out. However, this time, he lowered his mental shields a bit. His goal was to prove to Obi-Wan that he did not have hostile intent. Then, suddenly he heard it. The voice that had haunted him for years echoed out through the room.

"What is there to talk about? You wish to train the boy, and it appears that my attempts to prevent that are about to fail," observed Obi-Wan cynically.

Vader resisted the urge to open his eyes. Obi-Wan had not manifested physically, at least not yet. However, he was willing to listen. Under the tired and jaded edge, Vader's experienced ears heard curiosity and concern. The next thirty seconds would make or break this conversation. He chose his words carefully but never broke form as he answered.

"This is bigger than any of us," Vader responded sharply, "The darkness, have you felt it?"

There was a moment of silence, and it didn't take much effort for Vader to imagine Obi-Wan stroking his beard in thought. The thought elicited a rare smirk of fondness from the aging Lord.

"Oh, yes. I've felt the darkness in the Force for years. Though, there has been a distinct and disturbing change in it lately," Obi-Wan tiredly confirmed.

Vader ignored the barb in his first sentence and elaborated, "At the beginning of this campaign, an entity reached out to me in the force. I know not who it is or where it is, just that it is more powerful than anything previously encountered. It also seems to have an invested interest in my campaign into the core worlds."

There was silence as Obi-Wan considered the statement. Vader knew from experience, what questions would come next. Regardless of the relationship, or lack thereof, Obi-Wan approached every issue in a measured and calculated manner. In his youth, Anakin had hated the slowness of this approach. However, Vader had come to appreciate that manner of problem-solving over the years.

"Do you have a name for this entity?" the Jedi asked.

"No. In our first encounter, he simply called himself a 'monument to all of your sins.'" Vader answered with a trace of annoyance, "He has revealed nothing else since then."

"'A monument to all of your sins'... sounds like you have a secret admirer," Obi-Wan quipped before turning serious, "What did he know about you?"

"Everything," the Sith answered bitterly, "It seems to be trying to stir up my hatred for most of the powers that I am facing and surrounded by. The sole intent of this being appears to be widespread conflict. I do not understand why this is, but the fact that this being has singled me out as the one to focus on has me concerned about the consequences."

Obi-Wan seemed to think about that for a moment before speaking.

"If this is so dark that even you fear it, what is there to do about it?" he asked.

The bitterness was still there but was slowly dissipating. As Darth Vader had suspected, Obi-Wan had felt the change in the Force. However, he had chalked it up to Vader's one-fleet war. The exact details stirred a fear in Obi-Wan that he had not felt since the Clone Wars.

"First, I need either a new suit or cloned limbs, allowing me to be able to challenge the Emperor fairly," Vader revealed, "Secondly, Luke must be trained in the Gray arts. It is possible. I have seen it done before. In many ways, the boy reminds me of Tano when she started."

Obi-Wan finally manifested, his interest piqued after the mention of his former padawan. Vader opened his eyes, allowing him to take in the form of his old master-turned-brother.

"How does he remind you of Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes piercing straight through Vader's helmet and into his eyes.

"He's powerful in the Force and entirely too quick to act. However, he has a strict sense of morality and compassion that keep his judgment sound," Vader answered quickly.

Ahsoka was not a topic he wished to discuss before, and it wasn't one he wanted to talk about now. His tongue had slipped earlier, and the memories associated with her weren't pleasant for him to dwell on.

"How do you intend to train him?" Obi-Wan quizzed.

"In a few days, I intend to take a trip to the Sith homeworld of Korriban, known to the Jedi as Moraband. If some entity of the Darkside has awoken, then the ancient Sith likely hold the secrets to what it is. Through addressing this matter, I will test him on his resistance to the Dark Side, allowing him to practice the techniques required to face the Emperor," Vader explained.

Obi Wan's pale blue eyes widened at the proposition.

"Luke is not ready. He failed his first test with a dark side nexus. Now you want to drop him on a planet flooded with it," the Jedi protested.

There was a moment of silence. Given the fearful way Luke entered their engagement on Bespin, he suspected something of that nature. However, knowledge of what exactly he failed on threatened to derail Vader's entire plan. The only upside was that Luke had not fallen under its sway. In that sense, he had accomplished more than most. Vader clenched his jaw and stared down his old master.

"Without those skills, Luke will be corrupted and turned into the Emperor's pawn." Vader ground out, "I understand the dangers, but time is not a luxury we have. This alliance is a fragile one, and our enemies are only growing stronger. This operation succeeds or fails on Korriban."

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes drifted downward. Vader sounded more like a Jedi than he ever had. He was putting himself and his son on the line to stop a madman. Yet, all Obi-Wan could see was an innocent young boy with glowing yellow eyes and a hatred that he couldn't bear.

He desperately wanted to take Luke and Leia away from all of this. The irony of the situation was not lost on Obi-Wan. However, he did not really care at the moment.

"What happens after this is over, and Luke has no constructive use for his Darkside powers? Would you have your own son walk down the same path as you… or worse, that of the Emperor?" Obi-Wan pursued.

The man's voice took a mournful quality. The concern hung from every word. The audible pain was enough to give Vader pause. He had spent years willfully ignoring the collateral damage of his actions, as was the only way to execute his plan and the Emperor's will without having a complete crisis of conscience. Yet, for a brief second, he was forced to look hard into the mirror. It hurt. Anger like he hadn't felt in years, flooded through the Sith's body.

"No," Vader answered sharply, "I am not interested in repeating the mistakes of the past. You will help me teach him self-control and sound judgment. Together we will teach him to control and use his powers, not the other way around."

Obi-Wan leaned against the wall and stroked his beard in thought. The worry in his face made it clear that he didn't like the plan, but that was to be expected. He had far too many examples to pull from of a Jedi dealing with the Dark Side and being consumed by it.

"The only reason I believe this plan will work at all is that he was not raised as a Jedi, but started training as one when he was nineteen," Obi-Wan warned.

"That will do him credit. Life on Tatooine laid the foundation for what you and Yoda started. Now we will finish his training, both physically and spiritually," Vader declared.

Obi-Wan hesitantly nodded. He wasn't nearly as confident as his old student. There was too much that could go wrong.

"Before I agree to anything, I want to know one thing," he announced.

As he spoke, the Jedi's face hardened, as though bracing himself for what was about to happen next.

"What?"

"Is this campaign worth it?" Obi-Wan quizzed, "When the galaxy finishes burning, and no civilization is left standing, will you be able to face yourself and say that you accomplished all that you hoped for?"

"All that matters will be accomplished. History may judge me as it sees fit, but there will be no Sith left alive when this campaign ends," Vader declared.

Obi-Wan slumped his shoulders as he concluded, "If this is the path you wish to take, I can't stop you."

With that, the ghostly apparition vanished from Vader's quarters. Darth Vader's eyes held on the spot where Obi-Wan had once been. To see him again stirred the emotions within him. However, it was the content of the discussion that Vader found himself considering. The Jedi had changed in the years since Mustafar. The man spoke like a Jedi and carried the same values. However, there was a jagged edge and a preference towards pragmatism that wasn't there before. To see him so worn and tired gave Vader the first real glimpse at the consequences of his actions, and it stung. Shaking mind free of those thoughts, Vader arose and marched out of his quarters. As he had told Obi-Wan, there was much to do and so little time.

**(Yaga Minor Shipyards: Central Command)**

Blue Team held their weapons low but ready. The Chief found himself increasingly annoyed as various team members tried to convince the officers to issue a stand-down order for the base. However, with stubborn pockets of resistance holding out, they refused to do so. Kelly stopped mid-sentence as the blast doors to the command room opened. In marched Commander Appo flanked by two squads of his own men, plus two droids and four men in black uniforms.

"Have they issued a stand-down order, yet?" Appo demanded.

"No," the Chief replied bluntly.

Appo nodded as he visually appraised the group. The commander's gaze seemed to cut through his helmet and into the soul of each prisoner. Each of the officers shifted uncomfortably in response.

"General, you never struck me as one of the idiots in this army," he commented.

"And you never struck me as a traitor," the General sneered back.

Commander Appo ignored the shot and turned to the Chief.

"We'll take it from here. I'm sure you have your own orders to follow," Appo declared with a wave.

In response, the troopers broke rank to take each Spartan's position. The Chief nodded and motioned for his team to follow. The commander was right. They did have orders not related to this station. With Roland having pulled the information they needed, Blue Team was to report back to Infinity for debriefing upon Commander Appo's arrival.

"General, with me," Appo's voice rang out as the doors hissed open.

The team exited as Appo issued his next command.

"Tear this place apart. I want every piece of information we can find," he barked.

"And the prisoners?" quizzed a soldier.

There was a moment of silence, and the Chief paused. He was hoping to catch any information or quietly issued orders that Admiral Hood needed to know.

"We have the one we need. Scrub the deck," Appo ordered.

The Chief knew what was coming next and saw no reason for his team to stick around. The doors hissed shut to the sound of blaster fire.

**(Deep Core Region)**

The metallic ring of a Captain's boots hung in the air as he marched across the catwalk. Marker lights, spaced every two feet, gave the structure a soft red glow. He stopped at the end and stifled a yawn. On the far side of the landing pad, two stormtroopers turned to face him. The captain saluted both men and rolled his eyes to the sky. With a shrug, the men turned back to their previously assigned duties.

In any other situation, this night would've been perfect. A full moon lit up the sixty-five-degree night, while an ocean breeze kept the air from growing stale. However, this was no ordinary situation on an average planet. This artificial ring had the atmosphere and biomes of a natural world. Yet, it had the distinct features of an artificial object. His ship had discovered it two days ago during a routine surveying mission. Since then, no one had been able to figure out what the object was or where it came from. The captain was broken from his thoughts by the sound of another person coming up behind him.

"Sir, the shuttle just checked in with the Conquest. They're on final approach," the officer reported.

The captain nodded.

"Thank you."

The officer saluted and marched back down the ramp. As his footsteps faded, the captain could hear the sound of an approaching shuttle. At first, it was a soft whine carried on the wind. Less experienced ears might have mistaken it for the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. However, the sound of the ship's twin engines increased in volume as the seconds ticked by. By the time the shuttle folded its wings for landing, it had risen to a roar that hung in the air long after the ship had powered down.

The captain smoothed his uniform as two Imperials in black uniforms marched down the ramp of the shuttle. One was an older man with cold eyes and a weathered face, while his partner was a young woman about the age of the ship captain with red hair and warm expression. The shifting nature of her eyes told the captain that she was likely as good as the other man. Both people were dressed in black uniforms and polished boots normal for Imperial Intelligence officers.

"Welcome to site 5-B. There's much to discuss," the captain immediately began.

Previous experience told him that there was no point in introductions unless prompted. Intelligence officers tended to ignore them. There was a period of silence as the two took in the area.

"I trust that this was worth the flight," the captain finally added.

"If it weren't, we would not be out here," the woman answered sharply.

"Of course," the captain acknowledged with forced politeness.

He led them off the Imperial landing pad and past the defense stations. From there, he stepped through the main entry door and down a series of interconnected passages and rooms. As they walked, the captain caught glimpses of the two officers behind him. Their faces were expressionless, but their wandering eyes and less than straight steps revealed their interest.

"You were given the specs for the ring in my initial report," the captain finally prodded.

"Yes, I trust that you can elaborate on those initial observations," the man confirmed.

The captain nodded and explained, "We are still working on mapping the ring. The dense nature of the planet has made orbital scans useless for anything below the surface level. Probes and atmospheric flights have been able to get seismic scans of the first kilometer below ground. However, the deepest levels are requiring infantry teams to survey effectively."

"Then there was truth to the suspicions of a tunnel system," the woman picked up.

"Yes. From what we can tell, it spans most of the ring," the captain confirmed.

As he spoke, the doors in front of him hissed open. The three people were deposited into a surprisingly small room. It had an opaque floor that seemed to glow blue, grey walls, and a large console dominating the middle of the structure.

"What is this structure?" demanded the female agent.

"It's a map room. We've been able to access a tentative map of the ring using that readout," the captain explained as he gestured to the console.

The grey uniformed engineer took his queue and pressed a couple of buttons. In response, a 3-D map of the ring appeared.

"Your report made it clear that your men were mapping the ring themselves," the other agent reminded him.

"Yes. The ring has endured extensive abuse and wear, owing to its location close to the galactic core. Many of the tunnels have collapsed or otherwise been altered beyond recognition," the captain readily explained, "Engineers were clearing them out and mapping as they go."

"But you had them stop," the woman inferred.

"Yes, I felt that it was unwise to use all of our heavy munitions until further orders were issued," the captain confirmed.

There was a moment of silence as the two agents stepped back to discuss the matter. While the captain could hear their hushed whispering, he could not decipher what exactly was being said.

Finally, the woman ordered, "Continue your operations below the surface. We will present our findings to Command. A more permanent solution will be developed within the next few rotations."

"Yes, ma'am," the captain answered crisply.

**(ISD Executor)**

Darth Vader listened as the meeting was ended. It had been a long discussion, but everyone had come to accept the fact that they would have to take what they could from Yaga Minor and leave. There would-be no longer-term salvage operations like many had hoped. One by one, the figures disappeared from the holo table. Vader allowed himself the thinnest smile as they disconnected. The alliance had survived another meeting. Soon Admiral Hood was the only one left, and Vader refocused himself.

"Clear the room," he barked.

The response was instantaneous as officers exited their stations and made their way out of the war room. There was a loud hiss as the last officer exited. Behind Vader, a set of large blast doors sealed him off from the command deck.

"Admiral Piett said you had a request for my ears only," Admiral Hood began.

"Your people are capable of cloning, are they not?" Vader quizzed.

Admiral Hood's eyes narrowed.

"We are to an extent. Limbs and organs mostly. A living being, however, is out of the question," the Admiral answered carefully.

Vader nodded slowly as his eyes turned to his suit. Words were added, deleted, and rearranged in his head. He would get one shot at this request.

"I am more machine than man now- a crude construct of metal, nerves, and skin twisted together in a sick parody of my former self. Against the Emperor, I am also vulnerable. This suit does not react well to the powers of the Dark Side of the Force, Force Lightning in particular. I must have limbs of flesh and bone if I am to face him," Vader explained.

Hood mulled that over, masking his curiosity with a statement.

"These new limbs would be required to be able to use the Force for you to face the Emperor as you plan," he noted.

"Yes."

"They would turn you back into a living weapon, as you once were?" Admiral Hood pursued.

Vader didn't immediately answer as he eyed the man. His face was hard, and his eyes narrowed. It was clear that Admiral Hood preferred him in a limiting suit. However, the Force told him that the Admiral also wanted something.

"What is it that you want, Admiral?" Vader demanded.

"What I want is to work with someone who isn't a mass murder and proven liar," Admiral Hood answered firmly, "What I'll get is operational autonomy."

"You were not given autonomy because we need to move as one unit. This was spelled out in the previous-"

"I am well aware of what was said. The Rebels don't want us striking out on our own for fear that we'll find the ring, destroy it, and leave before this operation is over," Admiral Hood cut in, "I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. However, if I am going to give you back your powers, I would rather not be around longer than required after this mission."

Silence reigned as Darth Vader considered the man's words.

"You wish to divert resources for a blind search." Vader surmised.

"The core is a big place. Either we tear it apart now or tear it apart later," Admiral Hood added.

The Sith Lord nodded. Fear was the man's primary motivation. He had come to destroy the ring and would not allow that objective to be put on hold.

"Very well. Allow me two rotations to make preparations. Then you may conduct your operations," Vader agreed.

**(ISD Executor: 24 hours later)**

The two blades danced around each other in a deadly light show. Blades clashed, and bodies twisted as father and son probed each other's defenses. Luke brought his blade down in a relatively standard attack. Vader raised his lightsaber to meet the attack. However, the blue streak suddenly changed trajectories and went straight in. The Sith leaped back as he used the force to redirect the blade away from his heart.

"Impressive. You aren't the boy I met in Cloud City," Vader observed.

Under his flat tone, one could detect the smallest hint of pride in his voice. Luke didn't respond as he pressed his attack. He came from every angle. However, they were all centered around the weakness he had just exploited. Vader sighed internally. Luke's defenses were weak.

In one fluid motion, he parried one attack and pushed out with his off-hand. Luke went stumbling. Vader swung his blade across at neck height. The kid was smart enough to duck out of the way. With the momentum shifted, Vader continued his attacks. In these, there was no trickery or off timing. They were the same brute force attacks that had served Vader well since his days fighting in the Clone Wars.

Luke found himself struggling to keep up under the accelerating onslaught. The crimson red blade seemed to be everywhere at once. Sweat poured out as his body struggled to keep up the pace.

"I have already taken one hand. Do not think I am afraid to take the other," Vader warned.

Luke only gasped as he narrowly dodged the thick red blade of his father's saber. He tried to mount an offensive, but his father's decades of dueling experience won out, leaving him on the floor after Vader kicked him while trying to dodge out of the way of a slash.

Vader turned off his lightsaber and stepped back to where he was when they started the duel.

"How did I win?" Vader quizzed.

Luke, still panting, wiped the sweat off his forehead as he stood up. He thought about the question for a moment before answering.

"You had the experience and the skills," Luke guessed, "When you went on the offensive, all I could do was dodge your attacks.

"You limit your use of the force," Vader corrected, "All it took was a weak Force attack to put you off balance."

Luke shook his head.

"There's only so much I can do in the heat of the moment," Luke protested.

"Use the Force," Vader snapped, "It will give you speed and power. Most importantly, it will give you the necessary reflexes."

"The Force is for knowledge and limited defense. It wasn't designed to be used for-"

Luke's words died in his throat as an invisible fist slammed into his chest. He flew across the empty hanger. His feet hit the ground, and he crashed hard into a durasteel support beam.

_Snap-hiss_

Vader's crimson lightsaber snapped back to life. He reached out with his off-hand and gave his wrist an upward flick. In response, the Force wrapped Luke in a steel grip and sent him streaking up towards the second level catwalk. He stopped his son a mere centimeter from the steel cross beams.

"The Force is a tool," the Sith bellowed.

He closed the Force hold around Luke's throat. The younger man gasped for air as he clawed at the invisible grip around his throat.

"Like any tool, it can be used, and it can be abused. Your refusal to use the Force will not prevent your opponent from abusing it," Darth Vader continued.

As he spoke, Luke, again, went flying across the hanger. This time he crashed headfirst into a pile of crates. There was a muted groan as Luke tried to unbury himself. His father marched forward and found him half untangled with his lightsaber in hand. His blade snapped off, and he looked down at Luke.

"You will accompany me to Korriban. There we will refine your use of the Force," Darth Vader announced.


	6. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader had it all planned out. Sidious would die. For years he had plotted, conspired, murdered, and forged elaborate lies to get to this point. However, when the Force throws in a new variable, years of planing are called into question. As the galaxy burns around him, Vader is left with one final mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Well, this is it. This is the second chapter I had promised. I won't say much except to give everyone a heads up. That "graphic depictions of violence" tag is gonna become really relevant starting in this chapter. So, don't think I threw that up there for the hell of it. Anyways, that's all I have. So, sit back, and enjoy. Without further ado, I give you chapter 6...

**(Light Freighter** **_Ghost_ ** **: one day later)**

No one knew what to expect when they pulled out of hyperspace, and this certainly wasn't it. Scattered among the debris and floating bodies were Imperial and Alliance warships, coupled with massive ships that no one could hope to identify. Ezra opened his voice to speak. Before he could, however, it was the ship-to-ship comm that made a sound. 

"This is a Sentry 1 to unidentified ship. Identify yourself." commanded the voice. 

As he spoke, a foreign, frigate-sized warship suddenly materialized along their portside. 

Hera stammered. "Since when do we-" 

"We don't," Rex answered as he punched the talk button. "This is light freighter 'Ghost', to Sentry 1. Stand down. We were recalled by the Home One."

As he spoke, the clone's aging raced from button to button across the co-pilot controls. It ended with him confirming that the Home One was not one of the destroyed ships and the transmission of their ID and proper clearance codes. 

"Welcome home, Ghost. You are cleared to proceed along the following flight path," the voice finally said before the comm line was cut. 

The crew let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. It seemed things had changed, but how much remained to be seen.

**(CAS _Shadow of Intent_ ) **

The Arbiter stared out of the front viewport with tired eyes. The years had not been kind to him. It was by sheer stubbornness alone that he had agreed to this venture in the first place. There would be no rest until the last of the destructive Forerunner installations were destroyed. ONI may have represented the height of dishonor, but they were skilled at the craft of gathering intelligence, better than his own intelligence gatherers. It was their slinking spies and hidden ships that kept humanity alive for over thirty years of war. If they said that there was a Halo ring in this galaxy, he had little reason to believe otherwise. 

However, the rest of this… the Rebels… the Imperial splinter group… The unstable alliance and constant maneuvering for power reminded him too much of the Covenant. His mandibles clenched, and his eyes narrowed into a look of contempt at the thought. This alliance would collapse under its own weight, just like the Covenant before it. It may not happen now. It may not even happen soon. Regardless, the end results would be ugly for everyone involved. The Arbiter just hoped he wouldn't be left to pick up the pieces this time.

The Arbiter returned to the present as a Sangheili officer in gold armor came up beside him.

"Arbiter, they've landed in the main hangar," he reported.

"Very good, Shipmaster. Bring them to the bridge. The general has seen enough detention blocks for now," the Arbiter ordered.

"It will be done," the officer acknowledged. 

With that, he stepped away and left the Arbiter alone with his thoughts again. It was soon after that the blast doors to the bridge hissed open. The Arbiter listened to the chorus of heavy footsteps. The Arbiter waited until the bridge was silent to turn around. The rhythmic _hiss-puff_ of Vader's respirator added rhythm to the Sangheili's movements. At the front, flanked by two Sangheili minors, was the general in charge of the Yaga minor shipyards. Behind him was Admiral Piett and Vader.

"Come forward. Time is a precious commodity," the Arbiter commanded. 

"A change of scenery isn't going to loosen my lips," the general sneered as he marched forward.

The Arbiter ignored him as he received a data card from Vader. He took this and inserted it into the bridge holo table. As he plugged it in, he visually picked apart the officer. He was an older man with white hair ringing a bald head. His features were worn and tired. Yet he stood tall with shoulders set back and chin held high. The final thing the Arbiter noticed was a distinct lack of restraints on the man. This was a subtle detail that was born from hours of argument and planning. 

"Perhaps it is time that we changed the topic of this discussion," Vader began.

The general didn't answer as a series of holographic images appeared. 

"These are the technical details of a second death star being constructed over the planet Endor," Vader explained before pressing the datapad into the man's hands. "It also contains a draft of the Emperor's military reconstruction order that will be going out shortly." 

The general listened with increasing alarm as Admiral Piett went through the particulars of each new revelation. Next to him, the Arbiter observed the conversation with a renewed sense of understanding. Vader never meant to win this war on his own. He intended to turn the entire Empire against one man. 

"Clever," he muttered. 

"This is impossible," the man scoffed. "This guts half of the military command structure… death stars… 'Operation Cinder'... Bantha crap is what this is." 

His disbelief failed to reach his darting eyes.

"If it was, we wouldn't be having this discussion. I do not base my actions on hear-say," Vader countered as he dropped another datapad on the holo table.

The general scooped the datapad up and began reading. The Arbiter did not know what was on the pad. However, it was clear that the contents were of interest to the general. He wiped the sweat from his brow and scrolled through the materials with reckless abandon.

"The Emperor is not interested in the safety or security of the Empire. He seeks nothing but personal power," Admiral Piett declared.

Two other datapads were set on the table. 

"More light reading," Vader announced, "You will have plenty of uninterrupted time to consider your place in the galaxy. Read. Comprehend. Decide what is truly worth dying for."

With that, he waved over the two Sangheili minors. The Arbiter gave a nod of confirmation to the duo as the general scooped up the datapads. 

"Take the prisoner to the detention deck. He is to be regularly provided with food and water. Ensure that he remains otherwise undisturbed," the Arbiter commanded. 

"It will be done," the two guards answered in unison. 

With that, the officer was escorted off the bridge. The doors hissed shut, and the Arbiter turned to the remaining Imperials. 

"We have slaughtered his people and destroyed his facility. What is the point of attempting to turn him? He has no ships to command and no soldiers to fight with," the Arbiter asked with the Sangheili equivalent of an annoyed sigh.

"In the long run, those reasons are exactly why he must be turned first. If he can be brought to our side, anyone else in the Imperial military is vulnerable. More immediately, he was the general in charge of the biggest shipyard in the outer rim. He hears things. He sees things. His information could be the difference between winning and losing this war," Admiral Piett explained. 

"Very well. You will be informed of any notable changes," the Arbiter accepted.

With the conversation clearly over, Darth Vader and Piett marched off the bridge. 

**(UNSC _Infinity_ ) **

The doctors stared at the technical readouts and medical reports with varying degrees of disgust and confusion. No one spoke as they took notes. Sideways glances were traded, and unspoken thoughts shared. At the front of the pack was an aging woman with ice-cold eyes, silver hair, and only one arm. She did not wince. She did not twist her face in a look of disgust. The woman simply took in the details with computer-like detachment. 

"Doctor, can you do it or not?" Admiral Hood demanded.

Doctor Halsey looked up from her datapad. 

"It wouldn't be the first accident to happen on the operating table," she answered quickly.

"No," Admiral Hood said, refusing the suggestion with a shake of his head. "Like it or not, he is one of the only people holding this operation together. We'll get to him after we have dealt with the more immediate problems." 

Agent Dare had pitched the same idea to Admiral Hood twelve hours ago. He had rejected the plan, and clearly, she had decided to go the democratic route and stir up outside support for the idea.

Dr. Halsey accepted the response and moved to explain the operation itself. "It'll be a legitimately, dangerous operation. There isn't a single part of him that went untouched in that battle. A conservative estimate has ninety-eight his outer skin burned beyond repair. His head was split open when he dropped to the ground. One lung is completely collapsed while the other one is severely damaged from smoke inhalation and fire. He is missing all of the lower parts of his limbs… On top of that, we'll have to deal with the untold level of damage his suit has done over the years. This includes-" 

"Doctor, the short version please," Admiral Hood cut in.

"In short, everything he damaged has been created in a lab by us. However, it was not all successfully made for one person. There is no promise that Vader's body will accept every cloned organ and limb. Also, there is no one here or anywhere that Roland could find, that has operated on a patient _this_ injured. People in his present condition die in the field, just like he should have. We have no literature to help establish a treatment plan beyond 'pump his body full of morphine and stop the bleeding,'" summarized another doctor.

Admiral Hood considered the information. He knew that this would be a hard task to undertake. Truth be told, he had hoped that Dr. Halsey would label it an impossible task-- a prognosis that he could easily take back to Vader. However, he was not given that determination.

Admiral Hood stood in the center of the room with his feet planted stubbornly in place. His face was drawn up into a frown, while his age lines showed. For several seconds, the officer didn't move or speak as he weighed his options. Vader had already sniffed out each of the alliance's lies and sent the message that he was aware of those being fed to him by the UNSC and Swords of Sanghellios. This would not be a lie that the admiral or any other officer could slide past Vader. However, they could still tell him no. There was nothing except their own pragmatic nature and subconscious fears preventing them from doing so.

"Consider it this way, Admiral. You are essentially building a new suit of armor for the Arbiter. However, the Schism has not happened yet, and we do not yet know which side of the battle line we will fall on," Dr. Halsey offered. 

Admiral Hood nodded as he considered the thought. The doctor was not wrong. In any other scenario, that man would be nothing more than just one more monster that needed to be put down. However, now was not the time or the place.

"Begin preparing for the surgery. Apparently, Vader is leaving the fleet for a few days. I do not know why, nor do I care. Use the time to prepare for the operation," he commanded. 

With this order, Admiral Hood spun around on his left heel and marched out of the laboratory. With Halsey leading the team of doctors, there was no reason to expand on his orders. She was more than capable of leading them to a final result. 

The march back to the bridge was a comforting experience. He watched as men and women flowed around him. They would stop long enough to snap a quick salute and then continue on with their tasks. Watching them work reminded him why he was here. The Admiral was not in this galaxy to be a peacekeeper. Nor was he here to simply destroy another nation. They were an obstacle. Were they not in his way, he would be content to leave them to their own devices. He was here to destroy the _last_ Halo ring. With its destruction, the galaxy could move on. The last relic of the Human-Covenant war would be gone. Humanity could begin its ascent to the Forerunner's Mantle. 

Admiral Hood returned the salute of two sentries and marched onto the _Infinity's_ bridge. He was immediately greeted by Captain Lasky and the holographic form of Roland. The two met him at the holo table, with the Captain issuing orders along the way. 

"Admiral, the last of the prowlers, just entered slipspace. It'll take them some time to reach the core, though," Captain Lasky reported.

His voice was calm and level. However, the Admiral's experienced ears picked up the faint hint of anticipation. The man was just as anxious to get underway as he was.

"One of them picked up a light freighter on the way out," Roland added as he marked the sighting on the map, "Home One confirmed that it was the _Ghost_ , one of their ships and the last one expected to arrive here." 

"Good. I assume Vader knows that we won't be here when he returns from this excursion of his," Admiral Hood answered.

"According to Admiral Piett, he is well aware of the fact. He is also expected to be out of contact for a while," Captain Lasky confirmed.

"There's also the matter of Agent Dare. She's dug up a lot of information. However, she does seem to be trying to undermine some of the leadership," Roland warned. 

Admiral Hood's face hardened. If it was bad enough for an AI to notice, then it was becoming a severe problem.

"I know. It's mainly two people that she's interested in. I'll deal with it when she returns," Admiral Hood said before adding, "Has she found anything useful in the meantime?" 

"She was able to confirm Vader's destination. It's a planet known as Korriban… supposedly a place of significant value to the Sith and the closest thing to hell that the Jedi believed in," Captain Lasky answered. 

Admiral Hood's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He did not like any of what this suggested. 

"Has anyone been able to figure out what his plan is?" Admiral Hood quizzed.

"No, sir. No one in the Imperial command chain seems to know what's going on, and their network doesn't seem to have any information on the matter," Roland answered, "Agent Dare will give you the specifics in a couple hours. Still, Vader's lines of communication seem to be airtight." 

"Alright. In the meantime, we need to finish preparing for our exit from the system. I want us to be ready to leave by the end of this rotation," Admiral Hood concluded.

"Yes, sir," man and machine both answered.

**(Deep Core region)**

The air was cold and stale. The lights flickered, and the crumbling floor made a distinct crunching sound as the stormtroopers marched down the passage. No one spoke a word as they stared down their blaster sights. Not a shot had been fired, and everyone was familiar with the grey labyrinth by now. This time, however, it was different. The blood-painted walls and green-tinted air made that very clear. The sergeant froze. Even without the hand signal, everyone else knew to freeze. 

"Door ahead," the sergeant called out as he turned to face the squad. "Lepall. Tek. Watch the rear. Everyone, stack up and stay frosty. This isn't friendly territory anymore." 

Before the words had finished exiting the sergeant's mouth, everyone was moving. Men in bleach white armor lined up along the side of the door. Their weapons pointed forward and down. Their eyes locked on the door as they fell into the shooting equivalent of a loose fighting stance. In front, the sergeant stopped just short of the door sensor. He raised three fingers. 

_3… Muscles tensed_. 

_2… Boots dug into the ground for maximum grip._

_1… One last calming breath flooded the lungs._

_Execute._

The door snapped open as the sergeant lunged forward. With blasters raised, the ten-man squad rushed in. However, there was nothing to greet them. The room was a large circle with chest-high walls, and massive beams crisscrossing the space. It was excellent for those that had to establish defensive positions. It also meant that several men were needed to clear the room with any kind of efficiency.

Through means that the sergeant didn't care to understand, the engineers had tapped into the ring's power supply grid and established a series of communication relays. These were set up at depths where ground communications began to fail. They acted to boost the signal and ensure that crews excavating the lower tunnels could still maintain contact with the map room's command and control center.

"Clear," called one trooper.

"Clear," confirmed two others. 

"How's our six?" the sergeant quizzed.

"All quiet," Tek answered.

"For now," Lepall added nervously.

The sergeant didn't respond as he examined the room. Blood and blaster scoring painted the walls, while shards of glass sparkled in the light. Sticking out from a beam, the sergeant could make out a bloody hand. The grey fabric running down the arm revealed its owner to be a Navy officer. Morbid curiosity led the sergeant to give it a gentle kick. He felt his stomach roll as it spun back out of view. 

"Equipment looks intact… beat up but usable," reported a trooper.

"Get it working then. I don't like how isolated we are," the sergeant commanded.

"Yes, sir." 

With that, the trooper waved over a specialist, and the two began working the controls. As the duo worked, the sergeant opened his own radio channel. He didn't need to report back to the map room. He simply needed to report to his commanding officer on the surface. 

"This is Echo 1 to Overwatch. Do you read?" he called.

"Echo 1, go... barely hear you," crackled a voice.

The sergeant inwardly groaned and condensed his report down to as few words as possible. This was going to be painful until they got that relay going.

"Relay 2 is secure. Room clear. No friendly or hostile forces were engaged," he slowly announced. "We suspect multiple deaths. There is a lot of blood, but no bodies."

Static filled the channel as the sergeant nervously paced the room. It would take a moment for them to process what he said through the static. No one on this mission was operating with the latest and greatest communications equipment.

"Understood… no word from Echo 2… Possible small arms fire… sector 3," answered a static-filled voice. 

The sergeant's head snapped to the right. Centered in his field of view was a broken door. Twin slabs of metal bigger around than his arm were bent outward and lying on the floor. Between them, he could see the broken and bent remains of the locking mechanism. His gut and head immediately started screaming.

"Overwatch. Did you say possible small arms fire in sector three?" the sergeant quizzed as he produced a holographic map of the area. 

Sector three encompassed a series of rooms and about two miles up from the excavation site. Due to their severely damaged state, the passages had been deemed too far gone to dig through. Now that unexplored tract of land represented a possible hole right in the middle of the Imperial line. Echo 3 secured a series of below-ground landing pads on the other side, while Echo 1 secured the relay, and Echo 2 kept the two linked. At the same time, another detachment was being sent down to determine the dig crews' status. 

"Confirmed… coming your direction," the voice answered.

"Say again? What is coming our direction?" the sergeant demanded. 

"Unknown… unresponsive," the voice crackled.

He swore and spun around to the two working on the relay.

"Come on, Tora. I don't have all day," he barked.

Tora didn't look up as he replied.

"I'm trying. It does not want to boost the signal, and I don't know-"

He was cut off by the sound of blaster fire. It was a distant sound carried on an unnatural breeze. Yet it's high pitched scream was burned into the conscience of every man and woman there. There was no mistaking the source of that sound. Every trooper froze, and every eye turned toward the broken door. A few seconds later, there was another blaster shot followed by a second and third follow-up shot. Not waiting for the encore, the sergeant jumped into action. 

His voice cut through the room as men were set up around the opening. The sergeant found a good position in the middle of the group and leveled his weapon at the door. The only two not redeployed were the two working on the relay. With his eyes glued to the door, he changed comm channels.

"Echo 1 to Echo 2 do you copy?" he called.

The only response was static. 

"Echo 1 to Echo 2 do you copy?" the sergeant demanded.

This time the concern masked as annoyance nipped at his voice. He scowled at the black void before turning to Tora and his partner.

"Whoever hit this place managed to mess with things so that the relay acts as a jammer," Tora explained without prompting. 

"Push the wrong buttons and apply a little brute force, and suddenly your signal amplifier becomes a signal jammer," explained his partner as she crimped a couple wires together. 

With that action, the sergeant's helmet comm came to life. The sound of panicked voices flooded his ears. 

"This is Overwatch to all teams. We have been engaged by an unidentified force. Our position is unsustainable. We are pulling back to Iron Ridge. Check-in upon receipt of this message," commanded a second voice. 

"This is Echo 2 to any Imperial forces, please respond," pleaded another voice.

"This is Echo 1 to Echo 2, go," the sergeant ordered. 

The command channel could wait until he knew his own tactical situation.

"Reinforcements never arrived... Something ambushed us soon after arrival… We tried to pull back to Echo 3's position but were cut off," the man reported between tired gasps. 

Even through the distorted audio, it was clear that the trooper had been running long and hard. Heavy breathing broke up his words, while the faint sound of pounding footsteps could be heard.

"How many of you are left?" he demanded.

"Two. Me and Private Tomell," reported the stormtrooper. 

"Where's the rest?" he demanded.

"Dead… eaten," the trooper replied. 

The rest of the squad traded nervous looks while the sergeant felt his unease grow. Something had gone horribly wrong horribly fast. 

"Where are you?" the sergeant demanded.

"I don't know. We got turned around," the trooper answered, with panic gnawing at his voice. 

"There are only two above-ground exits from this area, and they're about a kilometer apart. Remember what the briefing said, 'In the case of an emergency, upward motion is your salvation.' Get to the surface and then rendezvous with us at the north entrance. We'll go from there," he ordered. 

"Yes, sir." 

As the sergeant spoke, he motioned for his squad to form up. They had a long march ahead of them. As the men walked to the center of the room. Tek's motion tracker chirped. Next was Tora's.

"Sergeant!" 

"I see it," he replied.

A line of red sat at the edge of everyone's tracker. Something had slipped around behind them. There were two ways out, and both now appeared to be cut off. The sergeant set his jaw and clutched his blaster. It mattered little what was down that passage. Their current position was looking more and more like a death sentence. 

"Let's give our new friends a _warm_ welcome," he called out.

Bravado poured out as he marched through the passage, his blaster ready to fire at anything that proved hostile. However, nothing could prepare him for what came next. 

First came the slithering. It started a faint sound carried on the breeze. It made their skin crawl, and their eyes wander. It seemed to be coming from every direction at once. This whispers grew louder with every passing second until they were maddeningly loud. Suddenly, the entire passage came alive as slimy green balls of flesh and tentacles came pouring through the door like water. 

"Open fire!" the sergeant yelled. 

The quiver in his voice was drowned out by the scream of his carbine. Furious, red blaster bolts flew towards their attackers. The squid-like beings exploded, and fleshy tissue painted the walls while a green-tinted mist filled the air. The squad never broke pace as they pushed through the wave of alien monsters. They made their way down the passage and through the door. Their armor was tinted green, and the air was heavy with smoke and the acrid smell of smoldering metal, but everyone was alive. As they rounded the corner, an ear-piercing scream cut through the squad. The cause was the green horror clinging to Tek's chest plate. 

"Get it off! Get it off!" he screamed.

Pain and panic leaked from Tek's voice as his blaster hit the floor. He flailed around, desperately trying to pry the creature off. Two other squadmates rushed to his aid as blood began to stream down his white armor. Through the tangle of arms and tentacles, the sergeant could see blood leaking out from a crack in Tek's armor. The ordeal ended with a blaster shot. Unable to peel the alien off, one of the troopers resorted to shooting it. The attacker exploded into a fine mist, and Tek stumbled backward, clutching the hole in his chest. 

The squad medic shoved everyone out of the way and went to work. His hands were little more than a blur as he worked to patch the wound. A bloody cough racked Tek's body. He let out a moan of pain, and another trooper peeled off his helmet. Tek immediately coughed a second time. This one was weak and came out more like a gasp than a cough. His breath grew shallow and ragged as the life slowly drained from his eyes. Within a minute, they were little more than glass orbs. A few seconds later, his body went limp, and the medic swore.

"Tek's gone," he reported clinically.

The sergeant nodded and keyed up his command frequency. As he did so, he motioned for the squad to form up. The loss of one of their own hurt, but they needed to keep moving before those things came back. 

"This is Echo 1 to Command, we've been engaged. The relay is active, but our position is unsustainable. Echo 3 is MIA, and Echo 2 has been wiped out," he announced through his helmet.

"This is Command. All teams are to rally at Iron Ridge. Imperial forces have been engaged on all fronts," answered a clipped voice. "We must consolidate our forces and push back the enemy. The relay is no longer a concern."

The sergeant gave an affirmative answer before turning to face the rest of his squad. "Command's given the order to fall back to the Iron Ridge. Apparently, other detachments have been engaged by what attacked us. We don't have much time before they come back. Move out!"

**(Imperial Shuttle: Somewhere in Hyperspace)**

Vader looked up from his lightsaber. The air chilled, and an unnatural breeze made what was left of his skin crawl. He closed his eyes and reached deep into the Force. He heard screams and blaster fire… Nothing new yet. That's when he heard it. It was a low growl. Images of green and brown flashed through his view. Twisted and mutilated bodies stumbled in and out of sight. There was all manner of creatures from Twi-leks, to Rodians, to humans, and more. Their arms were like tentacles while their faces were frozen in horror and agony. Slimy appendages protruded from the most unnatural of places while bones were broken and twisted beyond recognition. In the Force, he could feel their torment. He felt them cry out into the Force as they were subjected to abuse and injury that would have killed any normal being. Their perpetual suffering translated into a chorus of guttural screams and ghostly howls. The Darkside wrapped around him like a cold, wet blanket. However, there was no invigoration. It squeezed tightly around him until the simple act of breathing was nearly impossible. It pulled every ounce of energy from his system.

 _"Peace is a lie,"_ the mysterious voice boomed. _"The Jedi… The Sith… they all offered salvation from a doomed existence. Yet, in their own efforts to find meaning, they only found their lives needlessly wasted. In this suffering can we find strength. Yet, only as one can our salvation come. There is no light or dark. There is only the Force."_

Then, as suddenly as they came, the images vanished. The words faded away, and the Sith Lord was left staring at the grey deployment bay he had initially been in. He took a couple breaths as his mind processed what he had heard. Fear and hatred were his allies. Yet, here, the weight of the pain and terror threatened to overwhelm Vader. This was far from the tightly controlled emotions of the Sith. These beings, whoever they were, were the embodiment of chaos. 

Darth Vader clutched the armrests as he fought to center himself in his set. His breathing slowed, and he was finally able to process what he had just seen. The Sith's mental gears turned as he picked apart every word and image for meaning. Whoever this being was, knew about the Sith and the Jedi. He knew of their code and their beliefs. The words spoken in the vision made that much clear. 

He barely noticed his son staring intently from across the bay as he marched into the cockpit. Upon sitting in the pilot's seat, he punched in a series of codes and frequencies. Almost instantly, he was rewarded with Admiral Piett. 

"Yes, my-"

"Admiral, there is a third side to this war. Use any and all intelligence resources available to our fleet. I want information on every Darkside cult that you can find," Vader demanded. "I want to know who they are, where they are, and what military threat they pose. Look closely at those that might have connections to the Imperial military."

Admiral Piett's eyes widened at the request. Having been born and raised in the outer rim, he knew precisely what Vader was asking about. 

"I-I don't understand," the Admiral struggled to answer.

Vader could feel the fear building within the man. Admiral Piett didn't understand what the order had to do with their campaign. However, he knew enough. Admiral Piett had heard the stories, just as Vader had experienced them. The Sith were not the only dangerous force users in the galaxy, and just like Vader, Admiral Piett did not want to believe that they were a wildcard in this operation.

"Someone else has plans for the Empire. I will not kill one disturbed ruler only to have another take its place," Vader declared.

Having regained his rigid composer, Admiral Piett spoke. "Our resources will be limited. It would be wise to tap into Alliance resources."

"Do what you must, Admiral. I expect answers," Vader agreed.

"Yes, my lord."

Vader pressed a button, and the admiral's image disappeared. He felt his son approach him and turned to look at him. For a moment, only his respirator could be heard before Luke opened his mouth. 

"What did you see?" he asked worriedly. 

"Our next enemy," Vader answered matter-of-factly. 

Luke scowled. 

His annoyance was evident as he demanded, "What do you mean?"

"There was a tremor in the Force. Someone else is preparing to strike," Vader revealed. 

Luke frowned. He had felt something in the Force. However, it had not been sure what it was. More questions formed in his head. However, before he could, his father spoke. 

"You came to Bespin. Tell me what you saw," he ordered.

Luke tilted his head. Vader knew of the white walls and spherical shaft. He had also been the cause of Han's carbon frozen body and witnessed Lando's betrayal. Why did he need to relive the details?

"You will find that the future is not as malleable as you would have it to be," Vader explained. "Beware of premonitions. They can save your life, but they never tell the whole story."

Suddenly Luke understood. Vader wanted to know what brought Luke to Bespin. No distress signals had been sent out from the Millenium Falcon. As a result, he must have learned his friends' troubles through the Force. 

"They told me enough. Because of the visions, I was able to protect Leia," he argued. 

"She was safe enough. I knew of Lando's impending betrayal long before you arrived," Vader shot back. "What you did was unnecessary and dangerous. Had anyone else been in charge, you and several key Alliance leaders would be dead right now." 

Luke's face burned red. Vader could train him in lightsaber and Force techniques as long as he was willing, but Luke would not be lectured on right and wrong decisions by a callous murderer such as him.

"What I did was necessary," Luke barked.

"No. Your actions were impulsive and dangerous," Vader retorted.

As he spoke, he let some of his emotions bleed into the Force. Before they arrived on Korriban, he needed his son to understand the dangers of seeing the future. 

"The future is unpredictable, and knowledge of it is dangerous. Often, when we try to change the future, we bring about the harm we were trying to prevent. This was a lesson I was forced to learn. You _will_ learn it as well. Things such as 'destiny' and 'fate' are worthless; used by others to control you. Only _you_ can dictate your actions. The Force can guide or show you options, but it cannot make the choices for you," he elaborated.

Any protests died in Luke's throat as Vader boomed his declaration. The air chilled, and Luke could almost feel the man's black suit suck the light from the cockpit. Anger and turmoil swirled around him. Luke forced himself to look into his father's black, lifeless eyes.

"That is why you betrayed the Jedi. You saw the future," he realized. 

It was as though someone had just handed the kid the missing piece to a horrific puzzle. Darth Vader's voice turned deathly quiet as he traveled back in time.

"Yes. In doing so, I caused the very future I had worked so hard to prevent. Your mother was dead, and my children were gone forever," Vader confirmed. 

"Why- How- What about the Jedi? You devoted your life to them. Couldn't they help you?" Luke stammered.

Surely, someone such as Old Ben wouldn't have just let him suffer as his own fear consumed him.

 _Oh, to be so young and innocent,_ Vader thought as he shook his head.

"It was never that simple. I was a member of the order, but I was _never_ one of them," the Sith explained, "I was alone when it mattered most."

Of course, he knew better. Looking back, he could tell that some had accepted him into the fold with open arms and accepting hearts. However, they were too few and far between to truly matter. By the time of his fall, most of these people were either dead or flung out into the deep, dark reaches of the outer rim where they could not help. Vader allowed a wry smile under his helmet as he guided the ship out of hyperspace. In the end, it had not been the Jedi or Sith that had accepted him with open arms. It had been the clones… the ones who had been forced to fight in the pointless war had accepted him as an equal. 

"Readouts say that this is a dead world," Luke noted as they approached the orange and red planet.

"There is no rest for the dead here, only horrors waiting to be unleashed," Vader responded as they entered the atmosphere. "Make no mistake; we will not be alone down here." 

Luke accepted the warning without a word as they descended into a large valley. The ship sat down on a bed of rock and sand. The engines shut down with a whine and left the duo with a tense silence. Vader gave his son one last appraising look before exiting the cockpit and dropping the deployment ramp. 

A cold wind cut through the ship, carrying the Dark side with it. Luke's hair stood on end as chills crawled across his body. He felt himself remembering his experience with the cave on Dagobah. The Jedi-in-training froze next to the ship's weapon locker. He turned to see his father staring intently at him from the bottom of the ramp. Luke opened his mouth to speak, only to see the Sith disappear around the ship's side. The message was clear. To be armed or not, was Luke's decision alone. He grabbed an E-11 out of the locker, snatched his pack off the floor, and jogged down the ramp. 

At the bottom of the ramp, Vader took a series of deep breaths as the Dark side pressed into him. So much power caused the skin under his suit to tingle. His senses heightened, and he could feel his depleted energy stores rapidly replenish. He could grasp the power that was otherwise lost to him, but he refused to be consumed by it, calling upon his years of experience to keep himself disciplined and focused. This was no pleasure trip. The sun was setting, and the duo had a lot of ground to cover. 

"There's a storm coming," Luke observed as he came up beside Vader.

Vader nodded but made no other move to address the matter. The incoming sandstorm was the least of the Sith's worries at the moment. Luke glanced nervously over his shoulder, yet he let the matter drop. Vader, of all people, should know how to proceed from here.

"You feel it, do you not?" Darth Vader quizzed.

His deep voice carried a level of severity that demanded attention.

"The Dark side is strong here," Luke answered.

"Yes," Vader began walking as he elaborated. "This is a planet of horrors and forbidden knowledge. Some will come as martial threats and violent traps. However, the most dangerous threats are the ones you take in with you." 

"Sounds familiar," Luke grumbled as he gazed at the statues silhouetted against the fiery red sunset.

"This is not Dagobah," Vader told him firmly, almost warningly. "You will either face these dangers and rise, or you will die. If the temples consume you, then you will be lost, and I will kill you."

"What do you mean by 'consume'?" Luke asked as he turned to Vader.

"The Darkside will show you things. It will whisper promises of a better future and show you what could have been. The experience is maddening as a force user tries to bridge the gap between promises and reality. Some get so absorbed in chasing these phantom promises that they get lost in the temple complex. They starve to death mere yards from the door, too physically weak to continue. Those that make it out are nothing more than crazed, delusional parodies of themselves," the Sith explained.

His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. It was almost as though he was explaining the proper use of a lightsaber, not discussing the horrors Luke was about to face. However, the warning was not lost on Luke. This was no Dagobah. There would be no second chances here.

Luke muttered a response, and they began their march. The trek across the open wasteland was reminiscent of the days Luke had spent tending between the vaporizers back on his uncle's farm. The wind blew hard. The younger skywalker could make out the shapes of crumbled walls and towering statues through the swirling dust. He looked down and saw that they were not traveling across an unbroken desert as he had first suspected. Instead, they were going down the remains of a stone pathway.

The path wound its way up to the top of a nearby ridge. By this point, the howling wind had silenced any conversation that the duo had. Luke pulled a set of goggles over his eyes and scarf high over his face. At the same time, his eyes began darting across the landscape. The sand was a brutal and unforgiving foe. More than once, Luke had run across Tusken raiders half-buried in sand with their exposed skin blasted off by the wind. He did not wish for a similar fate on this rock.

"There is shelter further ahead," Vader announced. 

Luke simply grunted as he fought the wind for control of his body. As the minutes drug on, the Sith slowly disappeared behind a wall of sand. The Force told Luke that his father was only a few feet ahead. However, he was nowhere to be seen. Luke explained away the phenomenon as a byproduct of the sand and wind. For what felt like hours, he marched up one hill and down the other. At some point, the stone turned to weathered durasteel and back as he crossed what he suspected was a bridge. 

Then, as though appearing out of nowhere, a set of stone walls shot up from either side. The wind died, and the sand hung in the air. Luke made his way past the entryway and activated his lightsaber for light. As he circled the room, he began to notice that he was alone. Even when he traded his lightsaber for a brighter glow rod, his father was nowhere to be found. With horror, Luke realized that he was no longer feeling his father's turbulent aura. 

Trepidation and fear welled up inside him as he stared at the walls. Robed figures of stone stared at him while runes etched the walls, while a layer of dust hung in the air. The sound of his breathing seemed to echo through the cavernous space. A cold draft from deep within told Luke that this structure descended further than what he was seeing. Luke's hand drifted towards his lightsaber as he began to follow the draft. As the natural light began to fade, Luke paused. He ignited his blade and did a small circle. 

The Force told him that he wasn't safe. His instincts told him to keep moving. However, his head reminded him of his father's words. This was a planet that specialized in madness. Careless adventuring was a bad idea. Luke cast one more glance at the cracked and faceless statues before replacing his blade and retreating towards the front entryway. He would wait out the storm and then keep moving. Luke settled down against the front right corner of the room, with his back against the wall. He had a clear view of both the main entrance and the other known exits from the room.

Luke pulled the cloth from his face and set to work, pounding the sand out of his gear. Sand fell like snow as he scratched his head and shook his hair. He dumped small mountains of dirt from his boots and dug his nails into his raw and irritated skin.

What little light remained soon disappeared, leaving Luke with the warm light of his glow rod to beat back the oppressive darkness. In the dim light, Luke worked intently to clean off his goggles. He worked the rag in furious little circles. Luke periodically paused and blew them off. After repeating the process a few times, he placed the goggles around his neck and began the same process with the optic on his E-11. As he worked, Luke felt his eyes grow heavy. It had been a long day and a hard march. He yawned and looked at his chrono. 

"Who's team am I on anyway?" he muttered as he read the time. 

He was exhausted, but, more than that, he was confused. Luke hated the Empire with every fiber of his being. He hated his father for what he had done and the people he had murdered. Yet, here he was. He was learning from his father. He was following him on missions. Hell, he had said yes to this whole thing and didn't even understand what he was after. At some point, the blind pursuit of knowledge about the Force had to give way to rational thought and goals. Luke knew this and could only hope he hadn't gone too far this time.

Luke shrugged and listened to the howl of the wind. If his previous experience was anything to go off of, he had at least another four hours before this storm settled down. With nothing safer to do, Luke laid his blaster on his lap, crossed his arms over the weapon, and closed his eyes. He wouldn't find any peace in this place but knew if he didn't try to get rest now, he wouldn't get much, if any, later on. With those thoughts swimming through his mind, he fell into an uneasy sleep, wary of what his father had planned for him when he woke up.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Darth Vader stood inside the entrance to the library. His helmet did an excellent job of hiding his current aggravation and concern. His son had managed to get lost when all he had to do was follow a path and stay close. He clenched his fists as he considered the complications that were likely to develop. The fact that he could feel the faint Force aura of his son was of little comfort. The boy was about three miles away, right in the middle of the sprawling tomb and catacomb complex. 

Darth Vader spun around and took two steps out into the blowing sand. There, he froze. Finding Luke in the storm would take time. It also carried a considerable risk to both of them. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Vader was at a higher risk in those tombs then Luke was. His emotional vulnerabilities and psychological scars ran much deeper than his son's. Vader put his parental instincts on the back burner with a low growl and turned to the task at hand. He had much to do and little time. Plus, the unguided experience would be good training for Luke. At least, that's what he told himself as he made his way back into the building.


	7. The Hate That Drives Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! I'm sorry updates are so slow on this. In spite of the virus, life has been hectic, and I haven't really had much time to write. However, I have a shiny new chapter for ya'll to enjoy. On a related note, regardless of what you think, the comment section is always open for thoughts and suggestions. (Promise I will only say this once) With that said, I give you Chapter 7...

The air was cold and stale. The thump of Luke’s footsteps echoed out through the oppressive darkness. The plan of waking up to clear skies had failed. He had blinked open his eyes to the same howling winds that had tucked him into bed the night before. Restless and unwilling to just sit and wait, he had begun his march into the structure. The prospective Jedi felt the air continue to chill with every foot of ground that he covered. Soon, he found himself fishing a light coat out of his pack before continuing on. 

As time wore on, his mind began to grow numb to the grotesque imagery on the wall. The writing was a script that he couldn’t hope to interpret while the carvings mixed with the statues in a never-ending string of unpleasantness that led him further into the blackness. 

“Blast it… Of all of the places to get lost.”

Luke paused. Standing before him was an intersection where two passages met before disappearing into their own all-consuming voids. Luke shined his light down each path and shrugged. All that greeted him was a dusty haze and more of the same angular passages. He reached out into the Force. Luke shivered as he felt the Darkside instantly envelop him.

_ Go straight… Less chance of getting lost. _

The idea came as a whisper, barely audible in the back of his mind. Suitably convinced that he had come to a conclusion himself, Luke continued on. Time continued to march on, and his thoughts began to wander. He thought of Vader and his confrontations with the Sith. Vader had been there from the beginning. He had killed Old Ben and ordered the murder of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Following the destruction of the Death Star, the man had hunted him with reckless abandon. Then, suddenly, he vanished. As abruptly as the chase had begun, it had ended. Vader had burned his way halfway across the galaxy, only to give up the hunt for months. It wouldn’t be until Hoth the following year that they’d be in the same system again. 

_ Vader was never your father.  _

Luke had pondered the thought before. Vader had to be lying. He was just trying to get into the kid’s head the only way he knew how to. 

“But he is my father. I felt it,” he argued with himself. 

_ You were lied to, just like they all lie to you.  _

Luke hesitated as the words crossed his mind. His skin crawled as he glanced back over his shoulder. The thought had been so intrusive, the venom so strong, that it had jarred Luke from his thoughts. Not everyone lied to him.

“I have people I can trust,” he muttered as he forced himself to continue on. 

_ Then tell Leia about your father. _

Luke let out a sigh. That was something he certainly couldn’t do. Luke trusted her, but that… well… He didn’t trust her that much. The admission was a tough pill to swallow. Luke felt the stab of pain as he mulled the problem over. Of course, that was a different issue than if she were to lie to him. He knew that Leia was hiding things from him; everyone had their secrets. He just hoped she wasn’t keeping him in the dark about something that could have changed things. 

He shook his head and continued walking. He wanted-no he  _ needed _ to finish this task so he could get back to the fleet. They needed him, and here he was scrounging around a maze that seemed like it was endless. 

He scowled before taking a deep breath and sinking into the Force to try to release his emotions, which was hard because he immediately felt bombarded by Dark tendrils that came from all sides. He tried fending them off, tried to run away from them, and even tried to call upon the light to help him, but nothing worked. The tendrils had thickened now, and hands seemed to come out of the ends. His eyes widened in horror, but he couldn’t do anything as the hands grabbed him in a durasteel Grip. He tried to shake them off, but they didn’t budge.

_ So… a Jedi has come to my sanctum. _ A voice sounded in Luke’s mind, feminine, powerful, and so Dark. Darker than even Vader. He nearly threw up at the feeling he got from its Force signature. _ Seeking knowledge, are you little Jedi? Forbidden knowledge?  _

It pulled at him, trying to break down his shields, which he dumped all the energy he could muster into to keep them up, but it was becoming harder to do even that. 

He knew he shouldn’t respond to it, but he couldn’t help himself. “I seek the exit to this maze,” he revealed. “My guide is waiting on the other side.”

The presence increased its pressure on his mind. He grunted, still keeping the dark from his mind.  _ Your guide, hmm?  _ The voice purred, and he shivered. It felt so Dark, so  _ wrong _ that he just had to get away from it, but couldn’t move at all. _ And who is this guide that seeks the knowledge of the Sith? _ It tightened its grip on him, and he had to struggle to even breathe. 

With the physical distraction, his mental defenses crumbled, and his mind was open to the Dark presence. He groaned as he felt it rip through his mind, finding out everything about him that it deemed noteworthy. 

It hissed at something it had found, and before Luke could even register what it found, the presence spoke one word, and that was all it needed. 

_ "Sleep _ ," it crooned. 

And he did.

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Vader picked through the library with cold detachment. The darkness pouring out of the old manuscripts and ancient datapads only fueled his determination. Unlike Luke, he felt no fear here. The Darkside was familiar. It was home. The Sith combed the records with reckless abandonment, even as his own concerns for Luke nipped at the back of his mind. 

_ He won’t survive. _

Vader twitched as the voice whispered in his mind. However, he refocused his mind with a simple grunt. Vader had finally found something of note. He wasn’t about to let it slip away. 

_ Your son will die, just like the rest. _

Vader didn’t bother to entertain the voices with an answer. The Dark side could whisper all it wanted, but ultimately it was his decision whether or not to respond. As his eyes dissected a flimsiplast Sith expedition report, Darth Vader felt his mind drift. Despite years of enforced discipline, old fears were slowly resurfacing. How many times had he been in this same race against time? How many times had he marched the people he cared for into dangerous situations, not to count the times he had directly inflicted the physical and emotional trauma. 

He tucked away some promising datapads and continued his march through the academy library. As he did, he felt his skin crawl. Vader paused in the middle of the yawning threshold and reached out with the Force. Something was wrong. He felt it in his bones, and in the way the Dark side swirled around him. He stared up at the vaulted ceiling, across the towering statue, and down the line of dusty shelves and battered terminals. 

He had always thought that the lack of Imperial excavations on Korriban had been a waste. The raw amount of knowledge to be gained was far beyond what any mortal man could comprehend. Instead, Sidious had seen it fit to send inquisitors and his apprentice scrounging through the dirt for mere fragments of information. 

However, this information would have to wait. Luke’s strong force signature had suddenly dimmed. Vader had been tracking it as the child did the one thing he was not to do. Not that it mattered to Vader. He had anticipated such a move, even counting on it to aid in the boy’s training. The problem came when he suddenly grew weak in the Force. His presence suddenly became that of someone almost dead, and death was something that Vader could not allow. 

Vader steeled his nerves and began the march deep into the center of the fortress-like library. Durasteel walls rose to meet him as he wound his way through the passages. His ventilator-augmented breath reverberated off the walls with each room he passed through. Finally, the Sith reached a hallway with a blank wall of grey metal. There seemed to be no place to go. There were no handles or signs. It was a wall. 

“Sith… they never change,” Vader ground out as he pressed his hand to the wall. 

With careful touches of the Force, he worked the hidden latch. There was a click, and the wall popped loose. With the grinding of dust against the gears, the wall sank into the floor before him. Before entering the newly revealed passageway, the Sith paused... an ancient sense of self-preservation, primal fear of the unknown, causing him to stare into the void. He did not know what was down these steps. However, deep in his mind, he knew that it was nothing good. 

_ Go… See the monster you have forged.  _

Vader instantly bristled at the words. The contempt filled hiss, and the cackle in its voice was all too familiar. Vader knew the voice of his former master anywhere. Whether the words were his or simple machinations of the planet, Vader did not know, nor did he care. The Sith snapped on his crimson lightsaber with a new sense of resolve. He had a job to do, and this time he would not fail. 

As he marched down the ancient stone steps, Darth Vader became aware of a presence. It was ancient and dark. What concerned him was how subtle it was. Whatever it was, knew enough to not make itself immediately apparent in the Force. The only reason Vader could sense it was his own strength in the dark side and his familiarity with its tricks and tools. He paused, partway down the steps, and turned around. In the red glow of his lightsaber, he could make out a pair of cracks spidering up either wall. As natural as they looked, Vader knew better. They were too perfectly aligned. He stepped closer and caught a glint of metal tucked into the stone. 

“What is it that you want?” he demanded as he stared at the unsprung trap. 

His artificial voice boomed out through the circular stairwell as he continued his march downward.

“Why are  _ you  _ here?” hissed a feminine voice, “You are the one who doesn’t belong. You are the traitor.” 

The voice was like a whisper carried on the wind, stiffened by its own disdain. 

“You know nothing,” Vader snapped.

“I know enough. You are a murderer. You are a traitor. You are nothing more than a stain on the galaxy,” accused the voice. 

Darth Vader stepped down onto the bottom landing of the stairs. The darkness swallowed the light of his blade, hiding the real size of the room he was in. However, the echo of his steps and the sudden absence of walls told him it was a sizable place.

“My reasons for being here are my own,” he declared. 

Vader instantly felt a set of invisible fingers press against his mind. He never broke stride as he threw up his own mental shields. This spirit would only get what he chose to reveal. There would be no head games here. 

“You carry much hostility. What has you so agitated, I wonder,” purred the voice. 

He wasn’t sure, but the Sith thought he could hear a touch of admiration blended into her annoyance. Darth Vader ignored the comment as he used the Force to throw open a stone door. 

Metal screamed and twisted as the stone slab was thrown down the next passageway. With every step, Darth Vader could feel his anger grow, fueled by his contempt of the Sith. This spirit reminded him too much of the emperor, which fed into his driving anger. Suddenly an animalistic scream cut down the passageway. Darth Vader slowly turned around to face the noise. His hand squeezed the lightsaber blade tighter as he heard the faint scrape of claws against the stone. He could sense several beings sprinting his direction. They should be on him any--

The first creature suddenly materialized out of the darkness. The canine-like creature propelled itself off the ceiling with fangs bared. Vader caught the beast with the superheated edge of his blade. The creature’s head flew from its body as he used the Force to smash two more against the wall. The fourth one lept over it’s flying pack mates only to impale itself on his lightsaber. At the same time, Vader became aware of a new set of force signatures fading into existence behind him. He spun around just in time to catch another of the creatures midway through the air. It snapped viciously as Vader’s artificial hand slowly crushed the vertebrae in its neck. He threw it to the side and continued his march forward, hacking and smashing his way through the hoard of animals. 

“You come in here. You ignore my questions, and you destroy my home,” growled the spirit, “Surely someone, as esteemed as yourself, would know better.” 

“I came here for answers, not to worship the dead,” Vader snapped as he split the last of the creatures in two. 

“What could you possibly hope to learn on your own?” she demanded. 

“More than I can from your twisted words.” 

“You are more foolish than the boy,” the spirit hissed. 

The Force suddenly yelled out in alarm. Vader shoved outward with the Force out of pure instinct. He was greeted by the feeling of a thousand needle-like spikes trying to force their way out of the wall. Vader gritted his teeth as he pushed back against the wall as he struggled to hold the trap at bay. He felt the anger and the hatred pour through him. It swirled around him, rushed through his body, and shot out as pure telekinetic energy. He dug his feet into the ground and threw his arms out in opposite directions. The walls crumbled and rippled inward. Dust and rock exploded as the ancient contraption imploded on itself. 

Darth Vader stood tall at the center of the destruction. The rhythmic  _ hiss-puff _ of his respirator was the only sound to be heard now. There was no voice, no screams, no growls, or metallic squeals. Stone did not crumble, and gears did not grind. There was nothing but dark, oppressive silence. He looked once to his left and once to his right. It was just another passageway. It was just another string of dead bodies and one more enemy. There was nothing new to be seen here, and so Vader continued his march onward. 

**∫∆πµπ∆∫**

Time lost all meaning as Luke passed in and out of consciousness. He did not know if hours or minutes had passed. His internal clock refused to tell him, and Luke could not summon the cognitive abilities required to check the chrono on his wrist. His world was a blur as he slid and tumbled across the ground. An invisible force pulled him through the passages and into a room. He let out a groan as he was pulled up into a vertical position. 

_ “Luke… Luke, where are you?”  _ whispered a voice. 

Luke rolled his head upward as the voice drifted into his ears. That voice. It sounded so familiar, yet he couldn’t tell who it was. He opened his mouth to speak. His words crumbled into a croak as he tried to focus his eyes in the dim light. 

_ “Why, Luke? Why would you do this to us?” _

This time the voice was familiar. It seemed to come from somewhere to his left, and he forced himself to turn that direction. 

“Un-Uncle Owen?” he asked between coughs. 

His throat was painfully dry, and his head was spinning. 

_ “We loved you.”  _

_ You betrayed us.”  _

_ “Don’t you know what he did?”  _

_ “The pain he inflicted?”  _

_ “The people he killed?”  _

The verbal assault broke Luke from his dazed state. With wide eyes, he twisted and turned to face the direction of each voice. The accusations came from all manner of places, from both the living and the dead. From the voices, Luke could make out those of his uncle, Han, Obi-Wan, and Leia. 

“I don’t-- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke protested. 

As he spoke, he instinctually pulled against his restraints. Wraps of cold steel pulled back, pinning him against the wall. Suddenly, out of the darkness came a bitter laugh. It came out almost like a hiss as crimson torches ignited down the length of the room. As they came to life, he was greeted with the sight of a woman he knew all too well. Her hair was drawn up in the signature twin buns, while a silky white gown covered her body. Leia’s face was drawn downward as she walked towards him. Her pace was even and purposeful as she closed the distance.

“I would love to believe that, Luke,” she said.

She looked up, and Luke instantly paled. Her bright and passionate eyes were replaced by a pair of black voids. 

“We would all love to,” she ground out. 

As she spoke, her voice took on a more resonant, more chorus-like sound. It was as though a thousand voices were trying to talk through the same mouth. Luke pulled against his restraints even harder as he felt the Darkside pour over him. A cold sweat broke out over his body. Luke’s breath drew short, and his heart pounded in his ears as she stopped in front of him. 

“You know what he had done to us. The torture… The pain… Have you not seen the bodies? Have you not seen the depths to which he will go?” wailed the voice. 

Luke didn’t respond as he reached into the Force. He closed his eyes and reached out, grasping for whatever flicker of light could be found down there. In his mind, Luke felt a sensation like someone beating on the inside of his skull. A thousand invisible fingers began to work their way inside his mind, trying to violently rip apart the shield he had hastily thrown up. He gritted his teeth against the pain. 

Suddenly his world began to spin. The Force itself seemed to scream out as he was thrown around in his restraints. The sudden jarring caused him to snap his eyes open. A sudden wind tore through the space, ripping up dirt, stone, and metal as it went. Walls were stripped away as the floor dropped out from under him. All of this was replaced by a massive grey cloud. Luke whipped his head from side to side, trying desperately to grasp his bearings in the void. In the disorientation, one thing immediately became clear… The oppressive darkness. Luke had never felt anything like it. It circled him and pressed in like a predator trying to strangle its prey. Cold shivers coursed down Luke’s spine while an invisible force slowly forced the air from his lungs. 

As he tumbled, the young Jedi became aware of screams. The sounds of death assaulted his ears. Cries of terror mixed with human voices and the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh. Through the fog, he was soon able to make out figures. He could see humans in green armor. Twi-Leks and Sangheili soon followed. Red lightsaber blades glowed from within, while the whirr of repulsor lifts added to the mess of noise. 

The noise suddenly faded as people appeared from the mist. Marines with green body armor stood back to back, firing their rifles desperately into the grey beyond. Suddenly green masses of tentacles and tissues plunged into the group. Blood splattered, and limbs contorted and split apart to the sound of tearing flesh and guttural screams. The dead reanimated, and the carnage continued.

After some time had passed, the scene finished its dissolution into chaos. In seconds the universe crumbled before him. Bodies were mutilated. Worlds burned, and the armies were scattered. Screams and incoherent words assaulted his ears. Bodies stacked meters deep burned like hellish monuments to their downfall, while the dead continued their depraved assault on the living. Deep in his mind, Luke knew what he was seeing. Yet his body could only give him emotions for it all. The fear was nauseating. The death was horrifying, and the certainty of it all was maddening.

Then, as suddenly as it all started, the vision ended. Luke’s body crashed to the ground. His body dropped to the dirty floor. He never felt it. His eyes were wide with shock, and his breathing was erratic. His chest bounced with each shallow breath. As he laid there, somewhere between consciousness and death, Luke became vaguely aware of the black boots towering over him. 

“F-Flood… Ring… Gravemind… Have to… We have… To warn them… We-- We have to run,” he gasped. 

He opened his mouth to say more. He grasped out desperately, trying to communicate what his brain couldn’t comprehend. Yet no words would form, and his muscles would not function. His world simply went black as sleep once again overtook him. 

**(Kuat Drive Yards)**

Admiral Thrawn paced around his stateroom. Surrounding him were all manner of art pieces. Cultures from all across the galaxy were represented. Each one was different, with strange shapes and colors blended together in differing displays of color. The only thing each piece shared in common was the Chiss admiral occupying the room. He had gone to war with each race represented. He had learned their cultures and memoried what made each person tick. He had then proceeded to weaponize it on the battlefield to alarming effect. The only exception to the rule was the three massive holo-images dominating the back wall of the room. They were images taken from his ships in the opening minutes of the Yaga Minor battle. 

“Such a fascinating alliance,” he mused as he looked at the vessels. 

He stared first at the familiar Executor, followed by grey and pink flagships. According to comm intercepts, they were the “Infinity” and “Shadow of Intent,” respectively. These ships were so different yet so similar at the same time. He smirked as he recalled the Infinity’s forward batteries. He wished he could show the EmperorEmperor these cannons in action. This was a superweapon done right, a mass of metal that could crack the most powerful shields. Yet it was mobile enough to be handled with a surgeon’s precision. At his core, Admiral Thrawn desperately wished he could make the EmperorEmperor understand the difference between a weapon of terror and a weapon of war. Sadly, the emperor had shown little interest in such nuances.

Admiral Thrawn brought his musings back on track and turned to the datapad in his hand. He looked at the battle formations laid out before him. He examined how each Force blended and operated. The alliance ships were there and distinct. Yet they were scattered among three particular sectors. He swiped through pages and glanced back up at the Shadow of Intent. 

“Of course… A fleet of yours would be multi-race. The design and the colors are a blend of alien cultures,” he muttered.

Admiral Thrawn looked through images of the other ships in that particular sector. They were all the same shades of pink and purple, with a sleek, rounded design born from standardization. However, he could see the subtle differences. No ship was ever quite the same. There was always some minor difference or imperfection in the hull of the vessel. For hours, Admiral Thrawn stood dissecting every part of the battle. He combed through the battle, minute-by-minute to understand what exactly had happened. Finally, he turned to the man at the center of it all. With the tap of a couple keys, he had replaced the Executor with a full-sized image of Darth Vader. Even as a holo-image, he seemed to suck the very light from the room. The admiral looked deep into the man’s black, empty eyes as his mental gears turned. 

He remembered his interactions with the ex-Imperial. He had always been the most devoted of them all. His moves were the boldest, and he accepted failure from no one, not even the Grand Admiral. Vader had always been a looming figure in the Imperial war machine. No one knew where he came from or what his actual rank was. All they knew was his reputation. They knew of the audacity inspired in his troopers and the lack of mercy he displayed for the incompetent and the enemy. 

Of course, Thrawn had seen through the fear and the starry-eyed expressions. Vader was a tormented soul. Something motivated Darth Vader to do the unspeakable. Yet, at the same time, he seemed determined to make himself suffer in the process. So much had been evident on Lothal and Ryloth. In both places, the extent to which he had gone to crush the rebels had nearly cost him his life. The reckless abandon with which he had approached both matters had driven battle-hardened Imperials to their breaking point and cost him at least one suit.

“Just what did we do to you?” he mumbled as he examined the figure, “What would make you turn your back so quickly?”

The chime of a wall-mounted chrono broke him from his thoughts entirely. Admiral Thrawn looked up and stacked the datapads on his desk before smoothing out his uniform. The admiral clicked off the images and punched in a communication code into the holoprojector. The machine beeped as it accepted the code, and Admiral Thrawn dropped down on one knee. 

Seconds stretched into eternity as he waited for the hologram to hum to life. The EmperorEmperor had always been one to answer in his own time, never arriving when others found it convenient. As he waited, Admiral Thrawn felt his skin crawl. He suddenly remembered just how much he had lost at Yaga Minor. The EmperorEmperor would not be pleased. All Thrawn could hope for is that his reputation and accumulated insights would be enough to save his own life.

After what felt like an eternity, the room was bathed in a blue glow. Admiral Thrawn’s metallic medal bars and rank insignias shimmered in the light. In any other instance, the admiral would’ve felt a sense of pride in the image. However, he knew better. He knew his place before the robed figure. 

“It is a pleasure, my Lord,” Admiral Thrawn greeted as he looked up. 

“Rise, Grand Admiral,” the Emperor growled, “I find your failure on Yaga Minor... most  _ disturbing _ .”

Contempt dripped from the Emperor’sEmperor’s raspy voice. Admiral Thrawn swallowed as he considered his words. What he said next would make or break this conversation. 

“There were complications. The trap was executed as planned, but the Force was magnitudes bigger than anticipated. We simply lacked sufficient-” 

“I am well aware of Vader’s newfound allies,” Emperor Palpatine hissed. 

Admiral Thrawn simply nodded and skipped forward in his explanation. Clearly, the emperor had been briefed or otherwise informed of what was happening.

“I have been in contact with Outer Rim Command. I anticipate that we will be able to launch a proper counterattack within the week,” he quickly reported.

His voice was matter-of-fact, carefully hiding whatever worry he felt. 

“No. You will not. Vader’s treachery is no longer your concern. Continue to consolidate your forces at Kuat. There is another threat coming from the Core. You will prepare the fleet for combat operations within the inner rim region. From now on, you will answer to Black Fleet Command, not the outer rim,” the emperor demanded.

Admiral Thrawn arched an eyebrow momentarily, but it vanished soon after before he answered. “My Lord, that is the heart of Imperial space. The only Force within striking distance of the Core is the Chiss Ascendancy.” 

“In due time, Admiral Thrawn, you will understand. In the meantime, you will do as you are instructed and nothing more. Is that clear?” the EmperorEmperor answered.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good. Now, I know that you were prudent enough to observe these newcomers.” the Emperor said.

Thrawn knew it for what it was. It was a demand for his own thoughts on the new ships that had fought at Yaga Minor. Rather than offer polite but unnecessary platitudes, he simply began his analysis. 

“The new ships are equipped with kinetic and plasma weaponry, but far different than any previously encountered. Their rate of fire is nothing impressive, far slower than our own weapons’ fire rate. However, their explosive payload is something to be respected. While we had the superior volume of fire during the battle, they produced much more deliberate and lethal strikes. However, This new force is far from immune…” 

Admiral Thrawn went on to detail the countless observations he had made during and after the battle. There were apparent rifts within the fleet. A level of distrust permeated their ranks, which kept their maneuvers always just a half-step behind. There was a rigidness with which their capital ships moved. Different doctrines of fighting blended in a way that had produced small, exploitable weaknesses in their formations. 

“...The mechanical precision that made any one group exceptionally dangerous is lacking across the entirety of this invading fleet. These are capable officers, and failure to respect their abilities will find them in Coruscant before the year’s end. However, such a disaster can be prevented by a swift and well-planned counterattack,” Admiral Thrawn concluded. 

Silence hung in the air as Emperor Palpatine’s figure towered over the admiral. From his angle, Admiral Thrawn could see the man’s face twist into a look of disgust. His yellow eyes seemed to cut deep into the grand admiral’s soul. Even without the Force to call on, Admiral Thrawn could feel the man’s displeasure.

“You have not been relieved because I still have use for a being of your talents. Pray you do not fail me again,” the Emperor growled. 

With those words, the emperor’s hologram winked out of existence. Admiral Thrawn pursed his lips in annoyance as he retreated to his stack of datapads. He knew that he should feel relief at still being alive. Few survived such interactions with the Emperor. However, all he could feel was a sense of dread. There was something larger at play. There were factors he was not being made privy to, and it deeply concerned him. 


End file.
